Pop-pop-Popular!

by Cl0udy_exe (orphan_account)

Summary:

Sometimes life changes so fast, it feels like you’re stuck on the edge of a cliff, staring down into an unknown void. That’s exactly how it felt when Mom announced we were moving. One day, I was living in the wide-open spaces of Montana—long, cool evenings with Dad and the comforting smell of pine trees. The next, I was packing up my life, leaving behind the mountains and everything I had known.
The divorce had been a disaster. I could still hear their voices raised in anger, still feel the sting of the hurtful words. It wasn’t just the broken promises and the bitter silence that followed—it was the feeling of abandonment. Dad had checked out long before the papers were even signed. When he left, it felt like half of me was taken away, and I wasn’t sure how to get it back.
And now, I was sitting in the backseat of her minivan, heading toward California. I wasn’t sure what was worse—the messy life I was leaving behind, or the uncertainty of what I was walking into. California wasn’t home. And I was still trying to figure out where I fit into all of this.

Notes:

• Inspired by Littlest Pet Shop: Popular by SophieGTV

BRING BACK LPS POPULAR!!! also the chapters are gonna kinda go along in order with the episodes but they probably wont end up lining up

 

ALSO!! each chapter is named after a lyric from the songs that I have tagged!

Chapter 1: Don't try to hate me because I am so popular

Sometimes life changes so fast, it feels like you’re stuck on the edge of a cliff, staring down into an unknown void. That’s exactly how it felt when Mom announced we were moving. One day, I was living in the wide-open spaces of Montana—long, cool evenings with Dad and the comforting smell of pine trees. The next, I was packing up my life, leaving behind the mountains and everything I had known.
The divorce had been a disaster. I could still hear their voices raised in anger, still feel the sting of the hurtful words. It wasn’t just the broken promises and the bitter silence that followed—it was the feeling of abandonment. Dad had checked out long before the papers were even signed. When he left, it felt like half of me was taken away, and I wasn’t sure how to get it back.
Mom never spoke much about the details, but I knew enough. She was always talking about moving on, about "fresh starts," but it never seemed like she was really dealing with the mess of it all. Her new boyfriend, Gregory, was her way of distracting herself—his expensive Tesla and that glossy smile were the bandaid she slapped over a wound that was still gaping. I hated it.
And now, I was sitting in the backseat of her minivan, heading toward California. I wasn’t sure what was worse—the messy life I was leaving behind, or the uncertainty of what I was walking into. California wasn’t home. Gregory wasn’t home. And I was still trying to figure out where I fit into all of this.
The silence between us stretched out until Mom broke it, her voice upbeat, almost too cheerful. “Oh, and guess who I’ve been in contact with?” she asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Brooklyn’s mom. Turns out, you two are going to the same school.”
My heart skipped a beat. Brooklyn. My old best friend, the girl I hadn't seen in years. “Really?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but it cracked. “She’s still living here?”
Mom smiled, clearly pleased by my reaction. “Yes! I thought it might be a nice surprise for you. She might even come over after school today.”
The thought of seeing Brooke again—after all this time—was a swirl of emotions I couldn’t quite sort through. Would she even remember me? Or had she completely moved on, just like everyone else?
I couldn’t help but drift back to memories of Brooke, the girl I used to know so well. She had been the quiet one—always with her nose buried in a book, her head tucked down, just the faintest blush on her cheeks. But beneath that surface was something different. A fire. Brooke was the type to pull you in when she let herself shine. Her humor was sharp, her laughter contagious, and her wit—oh, it could cut through any tension. But she kept it locked away, only showing that side to a few people.
I wondered if that part of her was still there or if the girl I once knew had completely disappeared. Would she still be the same bookworm, or had she evolved into someone I wouldn't even recognize?
The driveway was long, almost intimidating, and when the car came to a stop, I stared up at the towering front door, feeling even more out of place. This was it. My new life—this wasn’t home, not yet.
"Alright, sweetie, let's get these boxes inside," Mom's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I nodded absently, opening the door and stepping onto the smooth, freshly paved driveway.
The house wasn’t a mansion, but it was still impressive. The warm, creamy stone exterior contrasted sharply with the deep green of the manicured hedges that framed the entrance. A tall oak tree stretched above the front porch, its branches heavy with bright leaves. The windows, large and clean, let in the sunlight, giving everything an almost picture-perfect glow.
I grabbed a box from the back, my fingers tightening on the edges, feeling the weight of the future in it. The house was luxurious, sure—but not in an over-the-top, flashy way. Everything about it screamed comfort, taste, and wealth. Even though it wasn’t a palace, it was still hard to ignore how out of place I felt. This wasn’t my home, not yet.
"Hey, let me take that," Gregory called from behind me, stepping toward the open trunk. He smiled at me, his voice warm and casual. "You must be tired from all the driving, Savvy."
I blinked, slightly surprised by the nickname, but then realized I didn’t mind it. He seemed genuinely friendly, a bit like someone who was used to taking care of people. I handed him the box without much thought, my fingers brushing his as I did.
"Thanks," I muttered, shifting on my feet. It was strange, how quickly everything felt different already.
I stepped into the house, the cool air a contrast to the heat that had clung to me from outside. It was quiet, almost too quiet, but there was something inviting about the place—the polished hardwood floors gleamed beneath the soft glow of recessed lighting, and the walls were adorned with family photos that looked as if they’d been carefully placed.
I wandered further into the house, my feet light against the floorboards as I passed the open living room, its large windows offering a view of the neatly kept backyard. The furniture was comfortable but elegant, with soft neutrals blending together like a curated magazine spread. To my right, there was a hallway leading toward a set of doors, one of which caught my eye.
At the end of the hall, there was a door with a simple sign on it—Savannah.
I stood there for a moment, just looking at it. It felt unreal, almost like I didn’t belong. The house was beautiful, undoubtedly, but it wasn’t my home, not yet. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.
Inside, the room was bright with natural light from the large window that overlooked the backyard. The walls were painted a soft lavender, and the bed was neatly made with a comforter in shades of pale pink and white. It was cozy, even if it wasn’t mine.
I stepped further into the room, running my fingers along the smooth, polished wood of the dresser. It felt like a place someone else would live. Not me.
There was a part of me that didn’t want to unpack, didn’t want to settle in because doing so would make it real. The change. The move. The distance from my old life.
But, despite everything, it was where I was now. And, whether I liked it or not, it was time to adjust.
As I stood there, taking in the quiet of my new room, my mom walked in, carrying a few of my boxes. She set them down with a soft grunt, her eyes scanning the room, the slight smile on her lips not quite reaching her eyes.
"Don't forget to pick out something nice for your first day," she said, her voice almost too bright. "You want to make a good impression."
I nodded absently, but inside, I wasn’t sure I was ready for any kind of impression.
"Okay," I muttered, still staring at my new surroundings, already feeling out of place.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the box of clothes in front of me, and sighed. My fingers hovered over the fabrics, each piece a reminder of the life I’d left behind. The familiar smell of Montana—pine, dust, and rain—was nowhere to be found in this house, just the sterile scent of fresh paint and new furniture.
I pulled out a few shirts, each one seeming too bright, too bold, for the dullness I felt inside. Nothing felt like me. Nothing felt like home.
I reached for a black turtleneck, something simple, understated. I’d wear that.
But then, I paused. Should I try harder? Should I go with something more “California,” like the bright colors I had seen in the stores back home? The idea of standing out, drawing attention, seemed like the last thing I wanted, but I couldn’t deny a part of me longed to fit in here—at least for a little while.
I tossed the turtleneck back into the box and grabbed a soft, purple sweater instead. Simple, clean, but also warm. I would need it. California might be known for its sunshine, but from what I’d seen of this town, it didn’t feel like it was going to warm me up anytime soon.
For pants, I picked out a pair of skinny jeans. They were comfortable, something I knew I could sit in all day without feeling too tight, too restricted. I could do this. I could get through one day.
But, the thought of walking into school tomorrow, facing a sea of unfamiliar faces, was enough to make me want to stay hidden in this room forever.
But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
I just had to survive tomorrow. One day at a time.
And maybe, just maybe, seeing Brooke again would help.
The sunlight poured through the half-open blinds, casting a warm golden glow across my room. The chirping of birds outside was the first thing that greeted me. I rolled over, groaning, and looked at the clock—7:15 AM. Great, my first day at a new school, and I was already awake before the alarm.
I dragged myself out of bed and quickly splashed water on my face. The familiar feeling of my mom's voice calling from downstairs made my stomach twist. I hadn’t even had time to process this big change yet, let alone get ready for it. But there it was, my first day of a new life, and I had to get up and face it.
I rummaged through the small pile of clothes I’d brought from Montana, still trying to figure out what this "California" version of me was supposed to look like. I had no idea what was cool here, or what would even fit in. Nothing felt right. But I pulled together a simple outfit: a loose purple sweater and some black skinny jeans, still unsure of how I would look or feel walking into that new school. At least it was a start.
As I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, I heard a knock at the door. “Savvy, honey, are you up?” Mom called from the hallway.
“Yeah,” I muttered, trying to make my voice sound like I had it together, but it didn’t work. I was still trying to piece this all together, from the new house to the new school. I just didn’t feel like me anymore.
She came in, holding a pile of folded clothes. “Gregory helped me find the school online. He thinks it’s going to be a good fit for you. They have some really great programs for people who want to get involved in extracurriculars, too.”
I nodded, my thoughts still racing. Gregory had been the one to research the school, pick the house, and everything else. Mom seemed so happy about it all, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being a stranger in my own life.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to sound sincere. I could feel my stomach knotting up. I wasn't sure if it was the thought of meeting new people or the pressure of being the new girl—probably both.
Mom smiled at me, then looked me over with a critical eye. “You’ll look great, I’m sure. Don’t stress. Just take it one step at a time.”
Easier said than done.Once she left, I stood there in front of my full-length mirror, trying to imagine myself walking into that school. Would it be like Montana? Would it feel familiar? Or was I just another face in the crowd here?
A sigh escaped my lips, and I grabbed my jacket. Whatever came next, I had to go through it.
I stepped into the kitchen, and instantly, the warm scent of potato pancakes hit me—comforting and familiar, though I couldn’t quite shake the feeling of disconnection. Mom had gone all out. The bratwurst sizzling on the stove brought a wave of nostalgia, the way it always had back in Montana. I sank into the chair, taking a bite of the golden pancakes, the texture soft and fluffy, coated in a light dusting of powdered sugar. It was delicious, but it didn't soothe the unsettled feeling in my stomach.
After finishing my breakfast, I slid my feet into my boots, the soft leather cold against my skin. Mom had already pulled on her jacket, ready to go. Her movements were quick, purposeful. As I followed her outside, I caught a glimpse of Gregory's sleek Tesla parked in the driveway, polished and pristine, its smooth curves reflecting the morning sun. I felt a pang of envy. He had everything—everything Mom seemed to want—while I was stuck in the faded, chipped minivan that had served us for years. The doors creaked as I climbed into the passenger seat, the leather seat worn from years of use.
Mom didn’t seem to notice my quiet frustration as she slid into the driver’s seat, adjusting her mirrors before starting the engine with a dull roar. “You’re going to love your school,” she said, her voice filled with optimism. She glanced at me briefly, and I forced a smile, even though I wasn’t so sure about this new chapter of my life. The van’s engine hummed steadily, but it felt out of sync with my thoughts. How could I love a place that felt so foreign to me?
The drive to the school was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space as I stared out the window. Back in Montana, schools were simple—one big building with the occasional portable tacked on for overflow. But this? It was sprawling, like a small campus. Multiple buildings connected by tidy walkways, all framed by trimmed hedges and clean stone paths. It felt more like a private university than a high school. My stomach twisted as Mom pulled into the drop-off circle.
I looked around, trying to orient myself. Students were everywhere, their voices blending into an excited hum. Most of them looked like they’d stepped out of a magazine—perfectly styled hair, designer clothes, and an air of confidence that I could never hope to fake. My gaze darted to a group of girls near a fountain, their laughter cutting through the noise. They were dressed in sleek skirts and expensive tops, their shoes pristine even on the gravel paths. Not far from them, a cluster of boys tossed a football back and forth, their easy camaraderie evident in their booming laughs and playful shoves.
As I walked farther onto the campus, I noticed smaller groups scattered about. There were the artists, easily identified by their paint-splattered jeans and sketchbooks tucked under their arms. The techies sat in a corner, their heads bent over laptops and gadgets. The athletes, loud and energetic, seemed to own the space near the gym. It was like each clique had its own territory, perfectly defined and utterly intimidating.
Then, I spotted it—a long line of students waiting at a table beneath a banner that read “Schedule Pick-Up.” My stomach tightened. I swallowed the lump in my throat and headed toward it, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The closer I got, the more I noticed the details. The table was draped in the school’s emblem, a crest embroidered with gold and navy thread. The staff behind it wore matching polo shirts, their smiles professional but impersonal. The line moved slowly, giving me plenty of time to absorb the fact that everyone else seemed to know what they were doing. Girls in trendy outfits exchanged knowing glances, boys chatted easily, and I stood there, an outsider with no idea how to fit in.
I adjusted my bag, suddenly hyper-aware of how out-of-place it looked—faded canvas, a far cry from the sleek leather backpacks slung over the shoulders of the students around me. The girl in front of me turned briefly, her eyes flicking over me before she offered a tight-lipped smile and turned back. It wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t welcoming either.
I let out a slow breath, trying to calm the nerves twisting in my stomach. It was just a line. Just a schedule. But it felt like the first test I was already failing.
I scanned the crowd again, my eyes catching on a trio of girls who seemed to dominate the space around them without even trying. Each of them looked like they had stepped out of a fashion editorial, their appearances curated with an almost maddening level of precision. The first girl stood with a relaxed elegance, her curly blonde hair catching the sunlight as though it had been styled moments ago by a professional. Her outfit though, made me wonder if this was a high school or some night club. She wore a cheetah print halter top, just a little too low cut. Her shorts, just barely long enough to cover up what mattered, were a dark blue,adorned with a studded belt and playboy bunny details. What stood out to me the most was her black platform boots. Her accessories gleamed subtly: small gold hoops, a thin chain bracelet, and a designer clutch that seemed effortless in her manicured hand. Her nails were almond-shaped and painted a pale blue, blending refinement with a casual charm. She was the picture of grace, even as she adjusted her sunglasses with a practiced gesture. The second girl had a different kind of energy—bold and striking, with straight brown hair that shimmered with golden-brown highlights in the sun. Her outfit balanced casual with an edge: a cropped top that showcased her toned stomach, paired with tight flare jeans that hugged her figure and flared dramatically at the ankles. The back pockets of her jeans sparkled with a rhinestone pattern, and her expensive white sneakers were impossibly clean, their designer logo catching the light with each step she took. She leaned slightly on one hip, exuding a confident ease, her smile a little sharper, like she knew she was being watched and didn’t mind in the least.
Then there was the third girl. She was striking, an undeniable focal point of the group. Her bright blonde hair fell in sleek sheets down her back, the kind of perfect, glossy texture that hair commercials aspired to. Her outfit hit the sweet spot between chic and playful: a low-cut, string-tied pink halter top that highlighted her figure, paired with low-rise, light bluish-grey cargo flare pants that added an effortless cool. She wore black-and-pink DC shoes, each detail of the bold design gleaming as if brand new. Around her neck hung a delicate Vivienne Westwood necklace, a subtle yet unmistakable nod to her wealth. Completing the look was a pink, bedazzled handbag that she carried as if it were an extension of her hand. Her nails, a shiny shade of baby pink, were shaped to perfection, matching the soft sheen of her expertly blended makeup. Together, they were immaculate. Their hair, nails, and makeup were flawless, the kind of perfection that didn’t come cheap. They looked like they spent hours being pampered and prepped by the best salons money could buy. Their laughter—sharp and melodic—carried through the air, catching the attention of anyone nearby. It wasn’t just their appearance that set them apart; it was the way they held themselves, as if they knew the world bent a little in their favor. I lingered for a moment too long, staring, before I quickly turned my gaze back toward the schedule table. These weren’t just girls; they were a whole different world, one I wasn’t sure I’d ever belong to.

I tugged at the hem of my simple sweater, suddenly all too aware of how plain it was. Compared to the shimmering rhinestones, glossy fabrics, and effortless elegance of everyone around me, I felt... invisible. Back in Montana, my wardrobe had been enough. There, people didn’t care about labels or designer tags. Here, it was like everyone had stepped straight out of a fashion catalog, each outfit carefully curated to scream status.
Even the way they walked was different—confidence radiated off them like a second skin, as though the world owed them its attention. My shoes, comfortable but scuffed from years of use, felt loud against the polished pavement as I shuffled forward in the schedule line. I wondered if I’d made a mistake wearing them. Would they notice? Would they care?
This school wasn’t just new; it felt like another planet. The sprawling campus, with its separate buildings and lush courtyards, was nothing like the one-building school I’d grown up with in Montana. Back home, you knew everyone’s name, their siblings, their dogs, their favorite ice cream flavors. Here, I doubted anyone even noticed I was standing in line. Or maybe they did, but just long enough to judge me and move on.
I kept glancing back at the trio of girls, their bright laughter slicing through the buzz of morning chatter. They looked so at ease, like they belonged to this world in a way I never could. The truth was, I didn’t belong. Not here, not in this fancy new school, not in Gregory’s polished house. Montana might not have been perfect, but it was home. It was where I knew who I was. Now? I wasn’t sure of anything.
I couldn’t help myself; my eyes lingered on the them again, my curiosity a strange mix of awe and unease. Their presence was magnetic, pulling my attention even as I told myself to look anywhere else. The girl with the curly blonde hair casually reached into her designer bag, her movements languid and precise. The other two shifted subtly, their postures aligning to form a sort of shield around her, blocking her from prying eyes.
I frowned, craning my neck slightly, unsure what I was seeing. My breath hitched as a thin wisp of smoke curled upward from the small circle they formed. The faint, sweet-smelling haze spiraled above their heads, catching the sunlight like a signal to anyone paying attention.
Was that... allowed here? My stomach twisted as I glanced around the courtyard, half expecting a teacher or security guard to come charging over. But no one seemed to notice—or care. Other students were laughing, chatting, and gathering in small groups, as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
The girls exchanged a quick laugh, the sound so carefree and deliberate, as if this was just another part of their untouchable world. I shifted my weight uncomfortably, wondering how rules could seem to bend for people like them while the rest of us tiptoed on eggshells.
I shuffled forward in the line, clutching the strap of my bag like it was the only solid thing in this unfamiliar world. The person in front of me grabbed their schedule and hurried off, leaving me face-to-face with a tired-looking woman seated behind a folding table. She barely glanced up before handing me a crisp piece of paper and a folded map of the campus.
“Next,” she muttered, already addressing the person behind me.
Stepping out of the way, I unfolded the schedule and map, staring at the clutter of names, numbers, and arrows.
First period: English Literature.
Room 214.
The words seemed straightforward enough, but the map was a different story. Buildings sprawled across the paper like some labyrinthine puzzle. I squinted at the tiny labels—“North Hall,” “South Hall,” “Student Center”—but nothing aligned in my brain. Back in Montana, we’d had one big school building; here, it looked like I’d need a GPS just to make it to class on time.
With a sigh, I refolded the map and tucked it into my bag. I found my locker number printed near the bottom of the schedule: #372. At least that was something tangible I could focus on. I scanned the hallway signs, my sneakers squeaking slightly on the glossy floor as I walked. Eventually, I spotted the row of numbers and zeroed in on mine.
Just as I reached the locker, I noticed two girls standing nearby, deep in conversation.
One had deep brown hair that fell pin-straight, almost too perfect to be natural. She wore a soft cream sweater tucked into a plaid skirt, paired with black tights and glossy Mary Janes that clicked faintly as she shifted her weight. Her entire outfit screamed “effortlessly chic.”
The other girl had lighter, curly brown hair that framed her face in soft, unruly waves. Her outfit was a stark contrast: a loose white off-the-shoulder top paired with pajama pants that trailed slightly on the ground, and tan Ugg slippers that looked like they’d been worn to death. Despite the casualness of her look, she carried herself with a kind of quiet confidence.
Their voices floated toward me as I fiddled with my locker combination, trying not to eavesdrop but unable to help but catch snippets.
“So your first period is in South Hall?” the straight-haired girl asked, her tone light but clearly engaged.
“Yeah,” the other replied, pulling out her phone to check something. “At least I think it is. The map is a nightmare.”
“You’ll figure it out,” the first one reassured, offering a small smile.
As I glanced their way again, the straight-haired girl caught my eye. Her gaze flicked over me, taking in my probably too-basic outfit and the obvious confusion written across my face.
“Hey,” she called out, her voice warm and inviting. “You look like you might need a little help.”
For a moment, I froze. The invitation was unexpected, and I didn’t want to come off as hopelessly lost—but the relief of being noticed outweighed my hesitation.
“Uh, yeah,” I admitted, clutching the paper in my hand. “I’m trying to make sense of this.”
The straight-haired girl’s expression softened as she stepped a little closer. “It’s okay to be confused,” she said, her voice calm and understanding. “This place is like a maze, even for people who’ve been here a while.” She tilted her head curiously. “Are you new?”
“Yeah,” I replied, feeling slightly more at ease. “I just moved here—from Montana. I’m Savannah.”
“Angelina,” she introduced herself, offering a friendly smile before gesturing to the other girl beside her. “And this is Genevieve.”
Genevieve gave me a quick nod, her relaxed posture and easygoing vibe almost contagious.
“Well, Savannah,” Angelina continued, glancing at the schedule in my hand, “let’s see what you’re dealing with.” She reached out, and I handed it over, grateful for the help.
Angelina scanned the paper for a moment, her perfectly shaped brows furrowing slightly as she studied the room numbers and times. “Okay, good news,” she said, glancing up at me with a smile. “We’ve got the same first period—Mrs. Pendleton’s in North Hall. I can show you the way if you want.”
“That’d be great, thanks,” I said, relief flooding through me. I glanced at Genevieve, who was scrolling on her phone, clearly still listening but less concerned about schedules and logistics.
“No problem,” Angelina said, her tone breezy as she handed back the schedule. “Let me just finish helping Genevieve figure out her first period, and we’ll head out. Trust me, you’ll get the hang of it here in no time.”
Genevieve let out a dramatic sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I wish they’d give us a whole day just to figure these stupid schedules out,” she complained, her voice carrying a distinct, faintly British lilt that caught me off guard. It wasn’t heavy, but it was there, rounding out her vowels in a way that made her words sound almost melodic.
“Seriously,” Angelina agreed with a small laugh, glancing at Genevieve. “You’d think they’d know how overwhelming this is, especially for people who are new—or people who don’t even know where their first class is yet.”
Angelina’s head snapped toward the hallway just as the trio of girls I saw earlier strutted in, instantly drawing the eyes of nearly every student around. They were unmistakable, their aura demanding attention, even without trying.
I followed her gaze, my eyes locking on them.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, furrowing my brow.
“That,” Angelina muttered, her voice dripping with a mix of distaste and exasperation, “is Rachel, Alicia, and Brooke. And trust me, they’re the three biggest bitches you’ll ever meet.”
Genevieve continued, her voice laced with bitterness. “Rachel? Ugh, don’t even get me started. She’s the biggest gossip in this school. You’ll never find out anything without her knowing about it first. I’ve heard rumors she’s a major nicotine addict. She’s always got a vape or a pack of cigarettes on her—always hiding it under the table in the cafeteria.” She sneered. “And she’s always jumping from one relationship to another, just for the drama. If you’re not talking about her latest ‘thing,’ you’re just not in the loop. And, well, she’s Brooke’s right-hand woman.”
I stared at Rachel, who was busy flicking her hair and laughing with the other girls, trying to process all of this. "She sounds... like a lot."
Genevieve gave a dry chuckle. “Oh, believe me, she’s a lot. And, fun fact—Rachel’s my cousin,” she added with a roll of her eyes, as if that was the most annoying thing about her.
“Your cousin?” I raised an eyebrow, surprised.
“Yeah. It’s a family curse,” Genevieve muttered, looking at Rachel with an expression that was anything but fond.
Angelina leaned in, shaking her head. “And don’t even get me started on Alicia. She’s super sweet... in the most annoying way possible. Like, she’s always pretending to be this innocent little airhead, but trust me, she’s not.” She paused for a second, a knowing smirk on her lips. “She’s a massive liar. I’ve seen her lie about the dumbest things just to get attention. If she says she got a new pet bunny, you bet that bunny probably doesn’t even exist.”
Genevieve laughed, her eyes rolling in the direction of Alicia, who was now hopping around and spinning in circles. “I swear, Alicia could get caught in a lie about which color the sky is. She’s always all over the place—looks like she’s daydreaming half the time. But that doesn’t stop her from pretending she knows everything.”
I glanced over at Alicia, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if she was serious about anything.
Angelina, seeming a little more annoyed, then turned her attention to the third girl—the one who, despite standing a few feet away, still managed to command the most space. “And then, there’s Brooke.” She spat the name like it was a bitter taste she couldn’t swallow.
Genevieve added with a scoff, “She’s literally the richest girl in school. I swear she funds everything. The library? Named after her family. The school’s sports program? Probably thanks to her parents.” She shook her head, her expression venomous. “She’s on the cheer team, has over 100k followers on Instagram—like she’s some kind of influencer or whatever. Picture-perfect. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect everything.”
Angelina cut in, almost mocking her. “But don’t get too close. If she even acknowledges you, it’s a gift from the gods.”
I frowned. “She sounds like... a piece of work.”
Genevieve grinned. “Oh, she is. You think that’s bad? There’s a rumor going around that when she got caught underage drinking a while ago, her parents just bought her out of the charges. I mean, it’s pretty obvious she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Wait, really?”
“Oh, yeah,” Angelina replied with a shrug. “Money talks. But don’t even try to talk to her unless you want to get your feelings crushed. She doesn’t waste her time on anyone who isn’t ‘useful’ to her.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes again, glancing over at Rachel as she giggled with the other girls. “And Rachel? Don’t get me started. She’s the school’s biggest slut. Jumping from one guy to the next, acting like she’s the queen of it all. Honestly, I don’t even know how she gets away with half of the stuff she does. If she’s not hopping from relationship to relationship, she’s busy telling everyone about it like it’s some kind of achievement.”
Angelina added, a smirk curling at the corners of her lips. “Honestly, she’s just a walking drama show. She’s like a magnet for attention, but in the worst way. Always stirring up something, always acting like she’s so innocent, but we all know the truth.”
Genevieve chuckled darkly. “She’s basically known for being a man-eater. She doesn’t care who she hurts just as long as she’s getting what she wants. I bet half the guys here have been used and discarded by her, but it’s whatever.”
I stood frozen for a moment, still watching the trio make their way toward their lockers. Brooke, Rachel, and Alicia moved in synchronized steps, the way they effortlessly commanded attention like they had done this a thousand times before. It wasn’t until they were about halfway down the hall that something clicked in my mind.
I watched Brooke’s confident walk, the toss of her hair, and her unbothered attitude. Then it hit me like a cold shower.
“Wait, what’s her last name?” I blurted, my voice nearly lost in the noise of the hallway.
Genevieve gave me an odd look, one eyebrow arched. “Hayes.”
My heart skipped.
“Brooke Hayes?” I repeated, barely recognizing my own voice. That was it. I had a flashback to our childhood, to those days when we were inseparable—before she left. Brooklyn Hayes. How had I not made the connection sooner?
“That’s... that’s the Brooke I grew up with.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
My heart raced as I processed the revelation. Brooke Hayes. The Brooke Hayes I had grown up with—my childhood best friend who had left Montana without a word. I remembered our endless summer days, playing in the creek behind my house, making friendship bracelets, and talking about our dreams. How had I not recognized her? It felt like the world had just shifted beneath me.
Genevieve gave me a sidelong glance, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “The one you grew up with, huh? Well, good luck with that.” She shrugged, looking disinterested, but there was something in her voice that made me wonder if there was more to Brooke's story than I knew.
I stared at Brooke, who was now at her locker, flicking her hair over her shoulder in that same, familiar, flawless way. Her back was turned to me, but I could feel her presence like a magnetic pull. Memories of our past—our friendship—rushed back, but so did the anxiety. What would she think of me now? Would she even remember me?
"Yeah, good luck," Genevieve repeated, snapping me back to reality. "Brooke doesn't exactly have a long list of people she wants to hang out with these days. She’s… different."
Angelina, who had been quietly observing, added with a raised eyebrow, “She’s like... the queen of this school, you know. The Hayes name is everything here.”
I shook my head, trying to block out Genevieve and Angelina’s warnings. I knew they were just trying to protect me, but something about the way they talked about Brooke made me feel like they didn’t understand. Sure, she might’ve changed, but this was still the girl I grew up with, the girl who used to make me laugh until my stomach hurt. How could she have turned into... this?
As the group moved down the hallway, their laughter echoing like a pack of wolves, I pushed through the crowd to catch up. I wasn’t going to let them control the narrative of who Brooke was to me. The hallway was a maze of lockers, bustling students, and the hum of voices, but all I could focus on was the cluster of girls ahead. The trio.
Rachel and Alicia were too wrapped up in their conversation to notice me, but Brooke... she was standing a little further from them, her back slightly turned as she fiddled with something in her locker. This was it. I was finally close enough to make her see me.
“Brooke!” I called, hoping my voice didn’t shake as I stepped toward her. The sound of my own heartbeat was almost deafening in my ears.
Brooke turned her head slowly, locking eyes with me for a brief second before looking me up and down with that signature disgusted gaze. It was like I was nothing more than a passing fly, unimportant and irritating.
“Who the fuck are you?” she asked, her voice dripping with annoyance as she flicked her hair over her shoulder, clearly unbothered.
I stood frozen for a moment, trying to process the icy indifference in her voice. "Brooke, it’s me... Savannah. Don’t you—?”
She blinked at me, her face completely blank. "Uh... do I know you?" she asked, her tone so condescending that it made my chest tighten. She glanced over at her friends, barely acknowledging my existence.
I could feel a growing lump in my throat. “Brooke, come on. We used to be best friends, remember? Movie nights, sleepovers, all of it...”
Brooke rolled her eyes, leaning back against the locker. “Sorry, babe. Don’t know who you’re talking about. Must’ve been someone else.”
Rachel, who had been casually watching from behind her, let out a snort of laughter. “Ouch, that’s gotta sting,” she said loudly as if it were some sort of joke. She had an accent, just like Genevieve.
I could feel the eyes of other students on me, the whispers starting to rise around us. My stomach turned, the reality of the situation hitting me like a ton of bricks. Brooke wasn’t just ignoring me; she was acting like she didn’t even care.
“Are you seriously acting like you don’t remember me?” My voice was quieter now, barely above a whisper, but the words still hung in the air, hanging between us like an unspoken truth.
She didn’t flinch. “Whatever, babe. Not interested. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
The sting of rejection burned deep, deeper than I had ever expected. I couldn’t understand it. This wasn’t the girl I used to know—the one who had once shared secrets and laughed with me in the middle of the night. But now... now she barely even remembered my name.
I took another step forward, my voice cracking slightly. “Brooke, please. It’s me... We—”
She cut me off once again, her expression showing no trace of recognition. “Honestly, I don’t know who you think I am, but I really don’t have time for this.”
And just like that, she turned her attention back to her locker, completely dismissing me as if I never mattered at all.
I stood there, my heart sinking into my stomach as the hall seemed to close in on me. The sound of laughter from Brooke’s group echoed in the distance as Rachel and Alicia whispered to each other, clearly entertained by the scene unfolding in front of them. The whispers turned into soft chuckles, and I could hear them growing louder, more pointed.
My throat was tight, and I felt the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck, but I couldn’t back down now. I had to say something, do something—anything to make this feel less like a nightmare.
But before I could muster the strength to speak, a cold voice came from behind me, sharp and cutting. “You really think she’s going to remember you, huh?”
I turned to see Genevieve standing there, her arms crossed over her chest, her face twisted into a mix of pity and annoyance. “She’s not the same person, Savannah. You have to realize that.”
The words hit harder than I expected, but there was no denying the truth in them. Maybe I had been holding onto some foolish hope that things would go back to the way they were. But this wasn’t Montana anymore. This wasn’t the Brooke I remembered.
I glanced back at Brooke one last time, but she wasn’t looking. She was already deep in conversation with Rachel and Alicia, completely absorbed in her own world.
And I felt completely invisible.
As I stood there, feeling more humiliated with every passing second, Rachel’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
“Oh! Ginny,” she called out, drawing the attention of anyone nearby, her voice dripping with that condescending sweetness. “Are you friends with the new girl? That’s cute. You’ve always liked the fat and ugly ones.” She let out a fake, saccharine laugh, her eyes flicking from Genevieve to me with a smirk that could’ve made anyone shiver.
Genevieve’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t answer immediately. I could feel the heat rising in my face. The sting of Rachel’s words was like acid, burning through my skin. I wanted to say something back, something that would hurt her like she hurt me, but my voice was caught in my throat. I was still processing the coldness of Brooke’s dismissal. Rachel’s comment was like the final push, sending me spiraling into a place I didn’t want to be.
But Genevieve, to her credit, wasn’t about to let Rachel have the last word. She shot Rachel a glare that could’ve frozen anyone in place.
“What the hell is your problem, Rachel?” Genevieve snapped back, her voice firm and unwavering. “Why don’t you take your little insults somewhere else?”
Rachel shrugged, tossing her hair back in an exaggerated motion. “Oh, come on, Ginny. You know I’m just joking,” she said, but the venom was still clear in her words. “Some people are just too sensitive, I guess.”
A chuckle from Alicia was enough to make my blood run cold, and I felt their eyes on me, all of them sharing that same cruel amusement. But I wasn’t going to let them see me break, not in front of them. I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. The hallway felt suffocating, like it was shrinking around me, and I wanted nothing more than to escape.
Genevieve took a step forward, her stance protective, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to shield me from everything. Not from the whispers, not from the pointed stares, not from the suffocating weight of the social battlefield I’d just walked into.
Genevieve stood tall, her posture hardening as she glared at Rachel, unflinching. "You should probably work on keeping your legs closed, Rachel," she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You’re not exactly setting a great example for anyone, are you?" The words hung in the air, as sharp as the look she gave Rachel, daring her to retort.
Rachel’s smirk faltered for a moment, but it didn’t take long before she shrugged, feigning indifference. “Whatever, Ginny. No one’s perfect,” she muttered, before turning her attention back to her usual audience.
Genevieve didn’t back down, but with a frustrated sigh, she grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the confrontation.
Genevieve led me back toward Angelina, her hand a steadying force on my arm as she guided me through the bustling hallway. My mind buzzed with what had just happened—Brooke’s rejection, the way Rachel had mocked me, and the feeling that the whole school was silently judging my every move.
When we reached Angelina, she didn’t hesitate to meet my eyes, her soft smile offering a sense of calm in the storm I was feeling.
"Don’t let them get to you," she said quietly, her voice low but unwavering. "They’re not worth your time."
Her words hung in the air, simple yet powerful, and for a brief moment, I believed them.
I nodded, taking a deep breath, my pulse still racing. "Thanks," I murmured, though I didn’t feel any less vulnerable. The hallway, the school—it felt like a foreign land, and I was standing in the middle of it, unsure if I’d ever find my place. But with their reassurance, I clung to the hope that maybe things could get better.
Angelina glanced at her watch, her expression shifting slightly. "We’ve only got a few minutes before English," she said, her voice smooth but laced with quiet urgency. "We should get going."
I nodded, realizing how quickly time had passed in the chaos of the morning. The weight of everything—Brooke, the weird tension with her friends, the unfamiliarity of the school—settled back into my chest as we moved toward the classroom. It was like stepping into the next chapter of a book I wasn’t sure I was ready to read.

Notes:

I HAVE A PINTERESTBOARD MADE FOR ALL THE CHARACTERS ( plus some from other fandoms..)- https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/
Heres the character specific links!!
Alicia-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/alicia-hamilton/
Rachel-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/rachel-rivera/
Brooke-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/brooklyn-hayes/
Tom-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/tom-dawson/
Sage-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/sage-bond/
Savannah-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/savannah-reed/
Nathan (stinky)-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/nathan-campbell/
Genevieve-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/genevieve-ryan/
Angelina-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/angelina-davis/

Chapter 2: Boys and girls pretend to know me, they try so hard.

Summary:

Lina and I walked down the hallway to English, the dull hum of chatter surrounding us, as if every voice was a reminder that I was the outsider. My nerves hadn't eased since the encounter with Brooke, and now it felt like the whole school was waiting to see how I’d navigate the next step. We reached the door to English , and I could already hear the buzz of conversation coming from inside.
Lina nudged me, a subtle sign of encouragement, before she pushed the door open. As we stepped in, my eyes immediately landed on her. Rachel. She was sitting at one of the front desks, surrounded by a few of the other girls from her clique, talking in that unmistakable, loud voice. Her presence seemed to fill the room, like she owned it, and I couldn’t help but feel a small wave of dread crash over me.
"Great," I muttered under my breath. I tried not to stare, but it was hard to ignore her. Rachel was the kind of person who always made sure you knew she was there. She had this way of making everyone around her feel smaller, even when she wasn't doing anything—just by existing.

Lina and I walked down the hallway to English, the dull hum of chatter surrounding us, as if every voice was a reminder that I was the outsider. My nerves hadn't eased since the encounter with Brooke, and now it felt like the whole school was waiting to see how I’d navigate the next step. We reached the door to English, and I could already hear the buzz of conversation coming from inside.
Lina nudged me, a subtle sign of encouragement, before she pushed the door open. As we stepped in, my eyes immediately landed on her. Rachel. She was sitting at one of the front desks, surrounded by a few of the other girls from her clique, talking in that unmistakable, loud voice. Her presence seemed to fill the room, like she owned it, and I couldn’t help but feel a small wave of dread crash over me.
"Great," I muttered under my breath. I tried not to stare, but it was hard to ignore her. Rachel was the kind of person who always made sure you knew she was there. She had this way of making everyone around her feel smaller, even when she wasn't doing anything—just by existing.
Lina leaned in, her voice low. "Ignore her. She's just one of those people who think the world revolves around them."
I nodded, but the sinking feeling in my chest wouldn’t go away. I followed Lina to a seat, but every inch of my body was tense, acutely aware of Rachel's gaze flicking toward me occasionally.
The bell rang just as I sat down, and I pulled out my notebook, trying to focus on anything other than the cliques already forming in the classroom. But it was hard not to feel like the new kid, standing out like a sore thumb when everyone else seemed so... comfortable.
I couldn’t help but glance at Rachel again, who was now leaning back in her chair, flipping her hair with exaggerated motions, and smirking as she exchanged words with one of her friends. She caught my eyes for a second, and just as quickly, her gaze turned away, as if she’d already forgotten about me. A part of me hated that it bothered me.
Lina sat down beside me, giving me a reassuring smile, but even she couldn’t hide the tension that came with the weight of Rachel’s presence in the room.
Mrs. Pendleton, the english teacher, stood at the front of the class, giving a warm yet professional smile as she introduced herself. “Welcome, everyone. I’m Mrs. Pendleton, and I’ll be your English teacher this year. Let’s start with some introductions—”
But I barely registered her words. My focus was on Rachel, who had her phone in her lap, holding it just low enough to make it seem inconspicuous. The small click of the camera was muffled by the chatter in the room, but I caught the look on her face as she angled her phone toward me, attempting to snap pictures without being obvious. My stomach churned, and I could feel the heat of her attention pressing against me.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, hoping Mrs. Pendleton wouldn’t notice what was happening. But sure enough, her sharp eyes cut through the room, narrowing just slightly as she saw Rachel's phone.
“Rachel,” Mrs. Pendleton’s voice rang out, clear and firm, “put your phone away, please.”
Rachel’s hand froze, and she slowly lowered her phone with a practiced, almost casual movement, but I could see the playful smirk she tried to hide behind her hair. She didn’t apologize. Didn’t even blink.
I felt my face flush, wishing I could shrink down and disappear into the seat. The whole room seemed to hum with an undercurrent of tension. It wasn’t lost on me that, even as Mrs. Pendleton continued to talk, Rachel was still sneaking glances at me, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile.
The classroom is unnervingly silent as Mrs. Pendleton starts calling the roll. My stomach tightens with each name that’s called, until she finally reaches mine. "Savannah—" she says, eyes flicking toward me, and I force myself to speak, “Here.”
There’s a brief pause before Mrs. Pendleton nods and adds, “Cute sweater! Where’d you get it?”
I freeze, suddenly self-conscious. “Target,” I say quietly, praying that’s enough to move things along.
From across the room, I hear a muffled giggle. I glance up and catch Rachel, her face half-hidden behind her bag, phone in hand. She’s covering her laugh but not trying hard enough.
I swallow hard, trying to shrug off the awkwardness, but I can feel the heat creeping into my cheeks. It’s one of those moments where the whole room seems to know exactly what just happened, and I can't escape it. Mrs. Pendleton continues, but my mind is still stuck on Rachel’s laugh, like an echo that won’t fade.
I wish I could just sink into the seat and disappear.
I feel Lina’s gentle nudge on my arm, her fingers brushing mine briefly, and I look over to meet her gaze. She offers a small, reassuring smile, one that feels like a silent promise to stick by me through the awkwardness. Her eyes say it all—don’t sweat it, you’ve got this. I take a deep breath and try to focus, pushing down the nervous energy bubbling up inside me. Maybe the day wasn’t going to be a total disaster after all.
The class hums with idle chatter as Mrs. Pendleton calls out names. A few kids joke around, teasing each other about who’s late, while others are buried in their phones or scribbling in notebooks. I catch fragments of conversations drifting my way—“Did you see last night’s episode?” “I swear, she didn’t even know who they were talking about…” There’s a faint laugh from behind me, probably Rachel, still trying to be sneaky with her phone, but I can’t help overhearing her whisper about “that new girl.”
Lina leans closer, whispering with a small grin, “It’s always like this in the beginning. You’ll get used to it.” She nudges me with her elbow, a comforting reminder that I’m not alone here.
I nod, trying to shake the nerves creeping up again. The noise around us feels almost suffocating, but Lina’s steady presence helps ground me.
“You good?” she asks quietly.
I offer a tight smile, nodding again. “Yeah, just a little overwhelmed.”
“Just wait till lunch. You’ll have the whole day to get your bearings. And hey, you’re not the only new kid. A bunch of people here are just as lost as you are,” she says, her voice still soft, but there's a warmth to it that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, things won’t be so bad.
"Thanks," I say, trying to hold onto that small spark of comfort, even as I feel like a fish out of water.
ina turns to me, her voice soft but friendly. “So, do you like it here so far?” she asks, her eyes scanning the classroom as she gently leans toward me. “The people, the vibe?”
I glance around, unsure how to answer. The room feels like a mix of strange faces and expectations I’m not sure I can meet. “It’s a lot,” I reply honestly. “But I think it’s okay.”
She smiles, leaning back in her seat. “You’ll get used to it. I mean, I didn’t know anyone when I first moved here either.”
I turn to Lina, curious. "Where did you move from?"
Her eyes soften a bit at my question, as if reflecting on something far away. "I moved here from Vietnam," she says, her voice warm, though there’s a quiet sadness behind her words. “I came here with my parents when I was about nine. It wasn’t easy, you know, adjusting. The culture shock was real. The language barrier... it felt like I was constantly trying to catch up.”
She pauses, her fingers tapping the edge of the desk as she seems to gather her thoughts. "I still miss home sometimes. My grandparents are there, and they don’t understand the whole American way of life. They think I’ve forgotten everything I learned growing up. It’s like, no matter how much I try to fit in here, part of me is always in Vietnam."
I can tell she’s not trying to be overly dramatic; it’s just something she’s had to deal with, part of the reality of being an immigrant, even if she’s been here for years.
I lean in a little, trying to show her I’m listening. “That must have been tough,” I say gently, not really knowing how to respond but feeling the weight of her words.
She shrugs but smiles a little. “It’s gotten better over time. I learned to speak English pretty fast, so now it’s just balancing my old life with this one. But sometimes I still feel out of place, you know?”
I nod, my own heart tightening a bit. I’ve been feeling that same out-of-placeness myself, though for different reasons. “I get that,” I admit. “Everything’s so different. I can’t even get used to the way people dress or talk here.”
Lina laughs softly, the tension easing for a moment. "Yeah, the fashion here is something else. But you’ll get the hang of it. Just wait until we get to the cafeteria. The food alone might throw you for a loop."
I chuckle nervously, trying to imagine what cafeteria food would look like in a place like this. “You’re probably right. I’ve never seen so many people in one room before, let alone ones who look like they walked straight off a runway.”
She grins. “Well, don’t worry. You’ll find your place. It might take time, but everyone does, even if it doesn’t seem like it. And if you need anything, just let me know.”
Her words are sincere, and I can tell she’s not just saying them to be nice. It’s comforting, but at the same time, it makes me feel a little self-conscious.
“Thanks, Lina,” I say softly, feeling a little lighter than I did when I first walked into this classroom. Maybe I don’t have to figure everything out right away. Maybe it’s okay to take it one step at a time.
We both go quiet as Mrs. Pendleton starts speaking again, but I find myself glancing over at Lina once more, feeling a sense of connection with her that I didn’t expect. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
As the conversation with Lina drifts into a comfortable lull, I find myself trying to push the anxiety that had been gnawing at me all morning. It’s strange how quickly everything here feels so... wrong. I can’t shake the feeling that I don’t belong. My life in Montana was so different. Simple. Predictable. But here? Everything is new, loud, and overwhelming. Even the air feels different. I keep trying to make myself small, to blend in with the crowd, but it’s like I’m this glaring sore thumb, too awkward and out of place.
I glance around at the other students in the room, some chatting excitedly, others already glued to their phones. Everyone seems so effortlessly at ease, like they’ve been here forever, and I’m just the outsider, fumbling through the motions. It makes me wonder if it’ll ever feel normal, or if I’ll always be the new girl trying to find my footing in a world that seems to have no room for me.
But then Lina’s quiet voice cuts through my thoughts, a reminder that maybe not everything is as intimidating as it seems. I glance at her, feeling oddly comforted by her presence, like she sees me for who I am and doesn’t judge. I wonder how long it’ll take before I find more people like her. Before I feel like I’m more than just the stranger in a sea of faces.
Before I can think too much longer, the bell rings, snapping me out of my reverie. The soft murmur of the room turns into a flurry of movement as students stand up to gather their things. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the sudden wave of panic building in my chest. It’s just the first day. This isn’t the end of the world. I repeat that in my head like a mantra as I grab my bag, forcing myself to follow the flow of students toward the door, and hoping that maybe tomorrow will feel a little bit easier.
The rest of the day feels like a blur, everything rushing by in a haze of noise and newness. By the time the lunch bell rings, I’m relieved to get a break, my stomach doing a nervous flip at the thought of the cafeteria. I walk to my locker, still unsure of how to navigate this place. That’s when I spot Lina and Ginny making their way toward me, their faces lighting up with a friendly warmth.
“Hey, wanna sit with us for lunch?” Lina asks, her voice gentle. The offer feels like a lifeline, like a small but real connection in a sea of strangers. I pause for a second, then smile, nodding.
“Yeah, I’d love to. Thanks.”
They both give me warm, welcoming smiles, and I follow them down the hallway, feeling a little lighter, even though the uncertainty of the day still weighs on me. As we walk, I take in the faces of the other students, the chatter around us blending into an almost comforting hum. For the first time today, I feel like I might just survive this.
We find a table in the cafeteria, away from the loudest crowds, where I can sit with Lina and Ginny in relative peace. They both settle down, and for the first time since arriving here, I can breathe. It’s not perfect, but it’s something. And right now, that’s enough.
“So, what’s the food like here?” I ask, trying to make conversation. My stomach growls softly, reminding me that it’s been a while since breakfast.
Ginny shrugs. “Eh, it’s nothing special. Pretty much the same as everywhere else. Some of it’s decent, though.” She opens her lunch bag and pulls out a sandwich, offering a small smile. “But it’s better than what my mom tries to make sometimes.”
Lina chuckles at that. “Yeah, your mom’s cooking is... an adventure,” she jokes, and Ginny rolls her eyes.
I laugh, feeling a little more at ease. It's a small, normal conversation, but right now, it feels like the most important one I’ve had all day.
I pulled my lunch out, trying to push away the nerves, but Lina broke the silence by diving right into something a little more familiar. “Okay, so I was literally stalking the new drop from Off-White last night,” she said, leaning in, eyes gleaming. “Did you see that limited-edition collab with Nike? Insane.”
I blinked, surprised. “Wait, no, I didn’t even know that was happening.”
“Yeah, I swear, they dropped it all in the middle of the night. It sold out in like ten minutes.” Ginny joined in, scoffing. “I’m still trying to get my hands on that exclusive hoodie. It’s only in like five stores, though.”
I raised an eyebrow, curious. “How do you even find out about all these drops? I can barely keep up.”
Lina shrugged, grinning. “You just have to follow the right accounts. You get notifications before anyone else, and then it’s all about the speed.”
That definitely caught my attention. Maybe I could use some help staying in the loop here.
ina laughed, nodding towards Ginny. "Yeah, and Ginny's dad is a total sneakerhead. He's always in the know, getting the limited releases before anyone else."
Ginny smiled, clearly proud. "It’s actually crazy. He has some vintage pairs that are worth more than a car at this point. He’s always telling me when stuff drops."
I glanced between them, impressed. "That’s honestly kind of amazing. I’d probably lose my mind if I had access to those kinds of shoes."
Ginny shrugged, a smirk playing at her lips. "It’s more of a curse than a blessing, honestly."
Lina chuckled again, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, he’s always on top of it. I swear, he gets up at like, 6 a.m. to check out the newest drops. It’s like a full-time job for him."
Ginny nodded in agreement, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I’m just lucky I can get my hands on some of them without having to wait in crazy long lines. I mean, some of them are worth thousands! Can you imagine?"
I raised my eyebrows, half in awe, half in disbelief. "I can’t even imagine. I’d be terrified of ruining a pair, honestly."
Ginny grinned, looking at me with a glint of mischief. "Trust me, my dad doesn’t let me anywhere near his really rare stuff. He says if I mess one up, he’ll cut me off from his collection for life."
I laughed, the thought of messing up one of those priceless shoes almost too much to handle. "I mean, I would too! It’d be like committing a crime, destroying something that valuable."
Lina shot me a playful grin. "It’s true. Ginny’s dad wouldn’t let her near the good stuff even if she begged."
Ginny shot back with a wink. "Hey, I’ve earned the right to hold onto them… maybe."
We all laughed together, and for a moment, it felt easy—like I was starting to settle into this new world.
Lina’s sudden shift in focus snapped me out of my thoughts, and I followed her gaze to the entrance. There, walking in together with effortless confidence, was Brooke, her arm hooked through the arm of a tall, athletic-looking guy. His brown hair fell messily around his face, and he wore a simple long-sleeve shirt with baggy blue jeans, exuding that casual, almost nonchalant aura that seemed to fit so perfectly with Brooke's poised elegance.
I noticed that everyone else had stopped talking as well, and all eyes seemed to follow them as they made their way into the cafeteria. I felt that familiar sense of discomfort creeping up again. She was always the center of attention, and it was no different now. The way she carried herself, even with someone else—who, judging by his relaxed demeanor, was clearly used to this attention—was like clockwork.
Ginny leaned in and murmured, almost bitterly, "That’s Sage Bond. He’s on the football team. Another one of her boy toys."
I could feel the undercurrent of disdain, but it wasn’t just the girls around me who were watching them. Several other students, drawn by the pair’s presence, were murmuring amongst themselves as they stole glances. It was impossible to ignore how they moved through the room together, how easy it was for them to command the attention of everyone in sight.
Sage smiled down at Brooke, his hand on the small of her back as they made their way to the table. He had that quiet, enigmatic charm—like he knew exactly how to navigate his world without ever needing to say much. Still, it was Brooke who caught my attention, her every movement so deliberate, so perfect. Watching them together almost made me feel like an outsider in my own skin. It was a strange mix of awe and unease.
"Are they…?" I trailed off, glancing at Lina.
"Yeah, they’ve been together since freshman year," she said, nodding as she turned to watch them.
Ginny, who’d been quiet for a moment, scoffed, "Yeah, it sucks. He’s way too cute for her." She crossed her arms, looking at the pair with a mix of envy and frustration.
Lina let out a little chuckle and leaned closer to me. "Yeah, Sage’s a total catch, but he’s definitely off-limits. Brooke’s had him locked down since freshman year, and no one dares to even try."
Ginny added with a playful smirk, "You’d be asking for trouble if you tried."
I glanced over at them again, trying to process everything. Brooke and Sage seemed so perfect together. Part of me couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to their story than what met the eye. But I wasn’t about to get caught up in that mess.
Sage and Brooke settle into a table surrounded by her usual crowd—several other well-dressed and polished-looking students who clearly followed her lead. They had a certain air about them, almost like a mini royal court, with all eyes on them, hanging onto their every word. I couldn’t help but watch for a moment, feeling like an outsider. These were the types of people who made me wonder if I’d ever be able to blend in here, or if I’d always feel like I was standing on the outside looking in.Brooke suddenly stands up, and for a moment, my attention shifts to her as she leans down to press a soft kiss on Sage’s cheek. The gesture is quick, almost affectionate, but also possessive, like she’s marking her territory without saying a word. Sage looks up at her with a smile, his eyes warm, and then she pulls away, her focus shifting as she straightens herself. Brooke’s sudden movement catches me off guard. The tenderness in the gesture is almost too intimate for the cafeteria setting. I can’t tear my eyes away as she straightens up, her gaze immediately finding mine.
Without another word, she walks toward me, her strides confident, calculated. She’s coming closer, and for a moment, I wonder if she’s finally going to leave me alone. But no, instead, she grabs my arm with surprising force, her fingers digging into my skin as she pulls me to my feet. The motion is so quick and unexpected, I don’t even have time to process what’s happening. I stumble slightly as I stand, my chair scraping loudly against the floor behind me.
“You need to come with me,” she says, her voice as calm and measured as always, but there’s an edge to it that makes my pulse race. It’s not a question. It’s a command.
I don’t even know how to respond. My body goes tense, and my mind scrambles for words, for an excuse, for something—anything—to make her let go of my arm. But all I can do is follow her as she drags me toward the cafeteria exit. Her grip is unyielding, like she’s pulling me into some dark corner of this place, a place I don’t even want to know about. I feel eyes on me, the room falling quiet as she drags me away. There’s no turning back now, no escaping whatever it is she has in mind.
I try to keep my balance as she leads me down the hallway, my feet moving with awkward uncertainty. My stomach twists in knots, a mixture of dread and confusion. What does she want from me? Why is she doing this? But as much as I try to shake the thoughts loose, they cling to me like shadows, growing heavier the more she pulls me forward.
Brooke doesn’t look back at me. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, like she’s already decided something. I’m just along for the ride, a reluctant passenger in whatever twisted game she’s playing. And the worst part? I’m too scared to do anything about it.
Brooke stops just before we reach the next hallway, releasing my arm and spinning to face me with an expression so cold, it feels like she’s a completely different person. I barely have time to react before she speaks, her voice harsh, the words slicing through the silence like a blade.
“You don’t get it, do you?” she starts, eyes narrowing, her lips curling into a forced sneer. “You think just because you’re new here, you can just waltz in and—what? Make friends with anyone you want? Especially me?” Her voice rises slightly, and I feel the sting of her words even though I haven’t said a thing.
“Let me make this clear, Savannah. I don’t know you. I’ve never met you. I don't want to know you,” she continues, her tone sharp and deliberate, each word carefully chosen like she’s rehearsed this in her mind. “So don’t come at me like we’re on the same level. You’re nobody to me. And that's how it has to stay. Got it?”
I open my mouth to say something, but she cuts me off before I can get a word out.
“You’re probably thinking this is all some big misunderstanding, huh? That you can talk your way into my good graces, that we can somehow bond over whatever pathetic thing you think we have in common. But that's not happening. Not now, not ever. I don’t have time for—well, for whatever it is you think you're doing here. And I’m not going to pretend like you’re anything to me when you’re just... some random girl who thinks she can fit in with me and my people."
She steps closer now, her voice dropping lower, her words venomous. “Do you understand? You stay out of my way. You keep your distance. You don’t speak to me unless I speak to you. This whole ‘friendship’ thing? It’s a joke. And if you ever try to mess with my life, with my space, you’ll regret it. So just—forget everything, okay? Forget you even saw me back there.”
She stares at me, her eyes daring me to argue, but I can’t. I feel so small under her gaze, like I’m the one who’s out of place. What did I even think? That I’d walk in here and things would just magically work out? Of course not. She’s right—there’s no chance in hell I’ll ever be part of her world. I’m just some outsider.
My voice wavers, almost breaking under the weight of everything I’ve just heard. I blink at Brooke, confusion making my stomach churn. “But… I grew up with you. What the hell, Brooke?” I can’t stop myself from saying it, my words small and desperate.
She laughs, a harsh sound that makes my heart drop. “You really don’t get it, do you? That’s all in the past. You don’t get to just come in here, act like we’re best friends, like we have some connection, and—” She waves her hand dismissively. “It’s nothing to me. I don’t owe you anything. Don’t act like you know me. You don't.”
Her voice gets louder now, more irritated. “You think because we were kids, what? You’re entitled to some kind of friendship? That I owe you something?” She scoffs, and her eyes narrow. “It’s not that easy. Things change, people change. You’ve got no right to try to push yourself into my world. It’s too late for that.” She steps back, eyes scanning me with thinly veiled disgust. “I don’t care who you think you are, but you’re nothing to me now. Got it?”
Each word feels like a slap, and my chest tightens with every sentence she says. The Brooke I used to know feels so far away now, lost somewhere in the past.
“But we—” I try to interject, but she cuts me off again, eyes flashing. “Stop talking, Savannah. Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to anyone I know. Just keep your head down and stay out of my way.” She crosses her arms, standing tall, as if she’s daring me to defy her. “And maybe, just maybe, you’ll get through this year without making a fool of yourself.”
The hallway feels like it’s closing in on me, the space around us growing smaller with every second. She walks off then, turning her back without a second glance, leaving me standing there, stunned and speechless.
My legs give out beneath me as the weight of Brooke’s words crushes me. I slide down the wall, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying to hold myself together, but I can feel the tears starting to sting at my eyes. My body shakes with the force of it all—her rejection, the realization that everything had changed, that I no longer mattered to her.
“Savannah…” I hear Lina’s voice first, soft but full of concern, then the quick thud of footsteps as Ginny joins her.
Lina kneels in front of me, cupping my face gently with her hands. "Hey, it’s okay," she says, her voice steady and comforting. "Don’t listen to her. She’s not worth your tears."
Ginny, too, drops down beside me, her usual playful demeanor gone. “You know she’s full of shit, right?” She glances over at Lina, who nods in agreement.
“It’s just...I don’t get it,” I manage to choke out, voice cracking. “We were...we were friends once. How could she just change like that?”
Ginny’s lips tighten into a firm line, but she says nothing. Instead, she wraps her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “It’s her loss. Don’t waste your energy on someone who can’t see your worth. We’ve got your back. Always.”
Lina looks over at Ginny, her eyes softening. "Yeah. Always. You’re not alone in this."
For a moment, I just sit there, leaning into their warmth and comfort, letting their words wash over me. It doesn’t fix the hurt, but it makes it easier to breathe. And for the first time today, I feel like maybe... maybe I’m not invisible after all.

Chapter 3: You know it's me, not you. Who said anything about you?

Summary:

My mom was quiet for a moment, eyes flicking between me and the road, her grip on the wheel tight but steady. “Did you see Brooke today?”
I looked out the window, trying to mask the hurt gnawing at me, but I couldn't hide the bitterness in my voice. “Yeah. But she doesn’t want to be friends anymore.” The words were like ice in my chest.

My mom was quiet for a moment, eyes flicking between me and the road, her grip on the wheel tight but steady. “Did you see Brooke today?”
I looked out the window, trying to mask the hurt gnawing at me, but I couldn't hide the bitterness in my voice. “Yeah. But she doesn’t want to be friends anymore.” The words were like ice in my chest.
“Wait—what?” Her voice wavered, disbelief clear. “Why? What happened?”
I shook my head, not sure how to explain it. My throat tightened as I bit down on the frustration that was threatening to boil over. “I don’t know. She just… changed. Pretended like she didn’t know me.” My voice faltered, and the weight of it all crashed over me again. “It’s like everything we had—every memory, every conversation—it doesn’t matter to her anymore.”
She looked at me, concern flooding her eyes. “Honey, that doesn’t make sense. Brooke’s been your best friend for years. She wouldn’t just—"
“I know what I saw, Mom.” My voice cracked. I turned to look out the window, not wanting her to see how much it all hurt. “She doesn’t care anymore. She’s got her new friends, her life... I’m not part of it.”
There was a long silence, the only sound the hum of the engine on the road. My mom kept glancing at me, as if waiting for me to say more, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have the words.
She sighed softly, voice gentle. “Maybe it’s just the transition. High school’s hard, you know? People change, they grow apart, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end of everything.”
But the words didn’t feel real. Not now. Not in the middle of the wreckage of what had been our friendship. “Yeah,” I muttered, but I couldn’t muster the strength to care. I didn’t feel like trying to convince myself of something that didn’t sit right. “I guess.”
My mom didn’t push. She respected the silence, which only made the weight of everything heavier. I felt like I was carrying something too big, too painful to hold. The hum of the car seemed to grow louder, and my thoughts tangled in the mess of everything that had just happened.
The drive felt like it stretched on forever, even though it was only a few miles to home. Each minute that passed was one more minute of silence that felt like a reminder of how alone I felt right now.
I glanced at my mom again, her eyes focused ahead, her lips pressed into a line, like she was trying to piece together what had happened, what was wrong, but she was never going to be able to fix this.
I wasn't sure what I wanted from her. What could she say? What could anyone say?
When we got home, the house felt emptier than usual. Maybe it wasn’t just because my mom wasn’t talking, but because my mind was miles away. In the hall, my mom paused, waiting for me to say something, but I just shook my head.
She didn't argue. She just let me walk past her and disappear into my room, where I sank onto my bed and curled into a ball, hoping that sleep would take me somewhere away from this nightmare of rejection.
But I couldn’t sleep—not really. My mind wouldn’t shut up, cycling through memories of Brooke, of the way she used to be, and the way she was now. The way I was now.
It felt like I was losing everything I knew, and I wasn’t sure how to fix it. How do you fix a friendship that’s been shattered by indifference?
The next morning, I woke up with a feeling that maybe I should try harder, not just for the sake of fitting in but to prove something to myself. I couldn’t stay on the outside anymore, not with how things were going. I’d spent all my life in Montana, isolated in a small town, and maybe it was time to shed that image—start fresh. I couldn’t keep shrinking back when Brooke and the others had made their worlds so clear. So, I picked up the mascara, brushed my hair through, and debated what to wear. I stared at my clothes, wishing I had something more “fashionable,” something that might get me noticed in the right way. I eventually settled on my purple oversized sweater and some jorts, hoping it was enough to blend in but not stand out too much. My Converse were my default, comfortable but also a little like a security blanket. I tried hard to make it look like I wasn’t forcing it, but inside I felt...well, I felt like I was forcing it.
.
.
.
I took a deep breath as I stepped into the kitchen, the scent of pancakes filling the air. My mom was already busy flipping them onto the plates, humming to herself. I hesitated before asking casually, “Do you think I could get some of those fancy clothes? Maybe something like Vivienne Westwood or, you know, a nice necklace?”
She paused, glancing up at me, her face soft with the usual concern. “We just spent a lot of money moving, sweetheart. Let’s hold off until your birthday or something. I’m sure you’ll find something great then.”
I bit my lip, feeling a mix of frustration and acceptance. Of course, she’d say that. “Yeah, sure,” I muttered, sitting down at the table. I wasn’t surprised; after all, she had a point. But I couldn’t help feeling this gnawing sense of urgency, like if I didn’t change something, I’d just stay stuck in this place forever.
I took a bite of my pancake, trying to keep my mind off the discomfort brewing in my stomach. The door opened, and Gregory walked in with his usual calm energy, wearing his work suit and holding his briefcase. “Morning, ladies,” he greeted us casually. “I’ve got business in L.A. today, so I’ll be taking the Tesla.”
I gave a half-hearted nod, trying not to feel self-conscious. As much as I hated to admit it, I felt a pang of embarrassment. I had to drive to my fancy school in the old, crappy minivan, while everyone else cruised in their sleek electric cars. It was petty, I knew it, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was falling short of the image I wanted to project.
I stepped outside, the morning air crisp as we made our way down the front steps of the house. The driveway stretched ahead, the banged up, silver car waiting for us. Mom was already a step ahead, heels clicking against the pavement as she walked briskly toward the car. I followed, tugging the strap of my bag tighter across my shoulder, my mind already racing about school and what I was going to face there.
Mom started the engine and shifted into gear, the janky hum of the minivan filling the car as we pulled out of the driveway. As we cruised down the road, Mom casually asked, “So, are you in P.E. this year?” She glanced at me, and I just shook my head.
“Nope, I got all the credits I needed,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.
Her mom gave her a quick glance. “Hmm. Well, you’re just getting a little more chubby now that you’re not working out.” The comment came off as casual, but it stung nonetheless.
I tried to ignore it, looking out the window and hoping my mom hadn’t noticed my cheeks flush. The drive felt longer than it should have, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the conversation or the pressure mounting within me.
I stepped out of the car, the heavy hum of the engine shutting off behind me. My sneakers scraped against the pavement as I walked toward the school’s entrance, the familiar, almost suffocating feeling of the hallways creeping up on me again. The air felt too still, like everyone was waiting to see if I’d slip up, just like yesterday.
I pulled out my phone, fingers trembling slightly as I texted Lina and Ginny. Where are you guys?
Lina’s reply was almost instant: By the lockers.
I let out a quiet breath, relief sweeping through me. At least I wouldn’t have to wander around like some lost sheep today. I shoved the phone back into my pocket, pulling my sweater tighter around myself, as I made my way through the crowd. My eyes scanned the hall, trying to ignore the hushed voices and sidelong glances.
It wasn’t like anyone was looking at me, I told myself. Still, the weight of every passing second felt heavier than the one before. When I reached the lockers, I spotted them right away—Lina’s bright blue hoodie stood out like a beacon, and Ginny was beside her, looking effortlessly cool as always.
I didn’t know whether to feel grateful that they were there for me or terrified that I was too out of place to fit in.
I walked up to them, a half-hearted smile already creeping onto my face as I tried to shake off the lingering nerves. “Hey, good morning.”
Ginny didn’t smile back. Instead, she pulled out her phone, tapping on it a few times before shoving it in my face. "Yo, you need to see this," she said, her voice clipped.
I squinted at the screen. It was a Snapchat, Rachel’s account. There I was, sitting with my lunch, shoveling food into my mouth. The caption made my stomach twist: Does she really need to eat all that…?
The words felt like they punched straight into my gut. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. The image, the words, the way Rachel had so casually put it out there for everyone to see—it all hit too hard.
I tried to swallow, the familiar knot in my throat refusing to loosen. My face flushed hot, but I didn't know whether it was from embarrassment or rage.
"That's fucked up," Lina muttered under her breath, her tone low and steady, like she was used to this kind of thing. But all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears.
Rachel and Alicia’s laughter shattered the silence, their voices cutting through the air like glass. The entire hallway seemed to pause for a moment, and I could feel every pair of eyes snapping toward me. My pulse quickened, my stomach a heavy stone lodged deep inside me. Alicia, always so loud and confident, made sure everyone could hear her words as they echoed off the locker-lined walls.
“Hey, Savannah! When’s your weight loss surgery planned? I hope it goes well for you!”
I could feel the weight of every single word crush me. The smirk on Alicia’s face, the way Rachel’s eyes sparkled with glee, the way the entire hallway felt like it was closing in on me—it was all too much. I swallowed hard, my throat tight, and I wished more than anything I could just disappear.
Lina and Ginny were silent, but I could feel their eyes on me, their expressions a mix of pity and anger. I couldn’t meet their gazes. Instead, I stared at the floor, my cheeks hot with embarrassment, hoping I could somehow shrink into the tile beneath my feet.
As Alicia’s words reverberated through the hallway, other students began to chime in, their voices a buzz of curiosity and judgment. "Wait, really?" someone said, their tone disbelieving but filled with the kind of gossip-fueled excitement that could spread like wildfire. Another voice chimed in, "That's crazy. Is it true? She really needs it?" The whispers multiplied like wildfire, spiraling out of control with each passing second.
I could already hear the gears of Rachel’s rumor mill kicking into overdrive. Every word, every laugh, every snicker seemed like ammunition, and I was the target. All it took was a single comment from Alicia, and now the whole hallway was buzzing with questions about me, my body, my worth.
Alicia and Rachel could make anything stick. And this? This was just the beginning.
Ginny and Lina led me outside, away from the noise of the hallway, trying to offer some comfort. But as we stepped through the door, I couldn’t escape the feeling that eyes were still on me. Even out here, a few students lingered, exchanging glances, and I heard a couple of quiet laughs. It was as if the whole world was still watching, still judging. The words Alicia had thrown at me were like chains, dragging behind me, making it impossible to breathe easy again.
I stumbled to a bench, my legs barely holding me up as I sat down with a heavy sigh. The words from Alicia and Rachel felt like a weight pressing against my chest, a pressure I couldn’t shake. My eyes were blurry, the sting of tears threatening to spill. I curled into myself, wrapping my arms around my knees as if somehow it could keep the hurt at bay.
Lina and Ginny sat next to me, their presence warm but not enough to erase the chill running through me. I could hear them talking, their voices trying to reassure me, but it all felt distant. The sound of my own heartbeat seemed louder than anything they said.
“It’s just bullshit,” Ginny muttered under her breath, but I barely heard her. “They don’t matter.”
Lina was the quieter of the two, but her touch on my shoulder spoke volumes. She leaned in close, her voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to listen to them. You’re better than that.”
But no matter how many times they told me not to pay attention, it was like their words were drowned out by everything else. Alicia’s voice echoed in my mind, the way the entire hallway had gone silent for a moment before erupting into snickers. Every time I tried to push it away, the image of her smirk flashed back into my mind. I wasn’t even sure if I could look at myself in the mirror anymore.
“Look,” Lina continued, sitting up straight and trying to catch my gaze. “I know it’s hard. But that’s just them. They want to tear you down because they’re miserable. Trust me, you don’t want their life.”
I wanted to believe her. I really did. But when you’re the target of something so public, it felt impossible to pretend it didn’t matter. It wasn’t just the comment about the surgery—it was everything else. The way people had looked at me, how Alicia’s words hung in the air, seeping into everything like a poison I couldn’t avoid. I didn’t want to be that girl. I didn’t want to be someone everyone made fun of behind my back.
I pressed my face into my knees, not caring if I looked weak. It felt like it would take years to recover from the feeling of being humiliated like that.
Ginny leaned back on the bench, arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. “They talk. They lie. They think they’re the fucking center of the universe, but they’re nothing. Don’t let them mess with your head. You know what’s real.”
“It just sucks,” I whispered, my voice muffled. I could feel the burn in my eyes, the hot sting of tears I was trying desperately not to let fall. “I didn’t even do anything. I just… I’m just here.”
Lina sighed, her voice soft but sure. “And that’s enough. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. If you need to cry, you cry. If you need to be angry, be angry. But don’t let them win. You’re not some joke for them to laugh at. You’re Savannah, and you don’t deserve to be treated like this.”
For a moment, I let myself feel all of it—the hurt, the confusion, the frustration. I hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t wanted any of it. I was just trying to fit in, to find some sense of belonging. And yet, somehow, I’d become the target of it all.
I wiped my eyes quickly, determined not to let my emotions take over completely. “It’s just hard. I don’t want to be the person they think I am. I don’t want to be the joke.”
Lina gave a quiet nod. “And you won’t be. Just don’t give them power over you. You have us, okay? And we’re not going anywhere.”
Ginny added, more forcefully this time, “Yeah, screw them. You’ve got people who actually care about you. And we’re not going anywhere, not now, not ever.”
Their words gave me a bit of strength, a tiny flicker of light in the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to carry all of this alone. Maybe they were right. But for now, all I could do was sit here and breathe, letting their presence remind me that this feeling wasn’t permanent. Maybe it wouldn’t always hurt this much.
was still curled up on the bench, trying to focus on their words when I saw Sage approaching. His brown eyes softened when he saw me, and he instantly noticed the tension in the air. His presence was almost like a quiet comfort, something I didn’t know I needed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently, looking between me, Lina, and Ginny.

Lina’s expression shifted to one of annoyance, and Ginny shot him a pointed glare. “Keep your girlfriend’s guard dogs on a fucking leash,” Ginny snapped, though there was no real malice behind it.

Sage didn’t flinch. “I don’t like her friends,” he muttered. “And I definitely don’t control them.”

He sat down on the bench beside me, giving me a sideways glance. “What happened? You okay?”

I hesitated for a second before shaking my head, the weight of everything crashing down again. Sage’s presence was comforting, but right now, I wasn’t sure I had the energy to explain everything.
Sage sat down next to me, the weight of his presence grounding me even if I didn’t know how to respond. He looked at me closely, his usual calm demeanor now laced with a hint of concern. There was a sincerity in his gaze, like he genuinely wanted to help—something I hadn’t expected from him, let alone someone connected to Brooke and her clique.
“Hey,” Sage repeated, quieter this time, his voice softer than I expected, as if he was trying not to push me too hard. “You sure you’re okay?”
His words hung in the air, like a lifeline. But what could I say? What should I say? Should I tell him that it felt like everything I was, everything I thought I was building here, was just crumbling to dust because of some stupid rumors?
I wanted to just break down right there. I could feel my chest tightening, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. My eyes darted over to Ginny and Lina, who were sitting stiffly across from us. They were trying to look calm, like they were there for me, but I could see the tension in their shoulders. They were angry—probably at Rachel and Alicia and Brooke, but I could also tell they were worried about me too.
Sage shifted slightly, his eyes never leaving me, and the silence stretched between us. Finally, I spoke, though my voice was barely above a whisper.
“They... they’re all just talking about me. They think I’m... I don’t know. I can’t even escape it. And I don’t know why I even care about it, but—” I paused, feeling a lump in my throat. “But they’re making it like I’m some kind of joke. Like I don’t even belong here.”
Sage didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he leaned back against the bench, crossing his arms. There was no judgment in his expression, just an openness that somehow made everything feel less heavy.
“I can’t change what they say, Savannah,” he said, his voice steady. “But I’m here, okay? I don’t like that shit either. And I don’t think you’re a joke. They don’t get to decide that.”
Ginny shot him a look, still protective as ever. “She doesn’t need your pity,” she muttered, but there was no real venom in her tone—just a protective instinct kicking in.
Lina, sitting quietly beside Ginny, glanced at me with a soft smile before turning back to Sage. “You can be quiet if you want,” she said, her voice lighter, almost teasing. “But honestly, you’re probably the only one in this damn school who isn’t trying to make Savannah feel worse right now.”
Sage didn’t look at either of them. He only looked at me, and there was something about that focus that made me feel a little less small.
“I know it doesn’t help,” he said, “but you’re not invisible. You don’t have to fit in with them. You shouldn’t have to, but—” He trailed off, like he wasn’t sure how to put it into words. “You’re better than their stupid high school drama.”
There was something strangely calming about hearing those words from him, like a strange comfort I hadn’t realized I needed. Even though he and Brooke were a part of the very clique that had just about shattered me, Sage seemed different. Maybe I’d gotten it wrong. Maybe not all of them were bad.
But, as I thought about it, my thoughts drifted back to Brooke, and how easily she had just turned away from me. Her words stung deeper than I cared to admit. They had been friends for so long, hadn’t they? The thought of her not even recognizing me felt like a dagger to the heart.
Sage’s voice pulled me back to the moment.
“I mean it, Savannah,” he said, quieter this time. “You’ve got people here who will actually back you up.”
And that meant a hell of a lot more than any of the rumors that were swirling around. Even if I was still unsure about everything here, maybe... maybe I could find a way to survive it all.
Sage checked his phone with a quick glance, his expression softening before he gave a small smile. "Sorry, duty calls," he muttered, before standing up and heading toward the north hall. Savannah watched him go, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and confusion.
Ginny, ever the realist, nudged her lightly, checking in again. "What’s on your mind?" she asked gently.
I just sighed, my eyes feeling heavy. "I don’t even know... I just wanna go to class and get through the day."
Lina, sensing the tears still lingering, gently wiped my eyes with her thumb. "It’s okay. You’ll get through this."
Lina’s hand was warm and steady in mine as she gently led me through the hallway, weaving through the throngs of students. I could feel the eyes on me, some filled with pity, others full of curiosity and judgment. But Lina kept her grip firm, and with every step, the world around me seemed to blur just a little bit more. I focused on her words, her soft voice, repeating like a mantra: "Don’t let them get to you. It’s not worth it."
As we neared the classroom, I could hear the hum of voices growing quieter, the sounds of my breathing drowning everything else out. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that, maybe, everything would settle down once I sat down. That once the door to the English classroom closed behind me, the whispers and laughter would fade away.
When we finally reached the door, Lina’s hand tightened around mine, giving me one last reassuring squeeze. "We’re here," she said softly. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I stepped through the door, trying to shake off the feeling that everyone was still staring at me, trying to ignore the weight of every eye that might have followed me in. I took a seat at one of the empty desks, my heart still racing, but at least the noise was muffled now.
Lina sat beside me, glancing over with a small, comforting smile. “Just breathe,” she whispered, “You don’t have to be perfect. Just get through today.”
I nodded, looking around the room. There were a few people talking in hushed tones, some giving me quick glances, but no one approached. For a moment, it almost felt like I could just blend in, like I wasn’t the target of every whisper in the hallways, but I knew that wasn’t the case. Still, I clung to Lina’s words, feeling a tiny bit of peace as I took a deep breath.
“Hey, don’t let them get to you,” she added, giving my hand another squeeze. “I know it’s rough, but it’ll pass. People forget things quickly here. You’ll be fine.”
I wanted to believe her more than anything, but for the first time, I wasn’t so sure.
As I settle into my seat next to Lina, the tension in the air thickens, and I can already feel the weight of the whispers. It doesn’t take long for Rachel and her group to start up, their voices loud and obnoxious as they throw jeers and cruel comments across the room.
“Guess someone finally got hungry enough to eat all that,” Rachel sneers, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Alicia giggles, her voice carrying through the room as she adds, “Better watch out, might not fit in those jeans next time!”
Lina shifts in her seat beside me, her jaw tightening in frustration, but I can’t bring myself to look up. I just sink further into my seat, the heat in my chest rising. It was bad enough when they targeted me in the hallways, but now it felt like it was impossible to escape. The laughter echoed in my ears, the weight of their ridicule crushing me.
Why do they even care so much about me?

 

The bell rings, signaling the end of the day, and as the class empties out, I feel this mix of relief and weariness settle in. It’s like the weight of the day’s drama is still clinging to me, but I can’t shake off this need to escape it for a little while. I’m just about to leave when I feel a tap on my shoulder. It’s Lina and Ginny, standing there, their expressions soft, concerned.
Lina speaks first, her tone gentle but with that familiar spark of determination. “Hey, look, if you’re up for it, we could help. I mean, if you want to feel better about yourself, we could go shopping or something. You deserve to feel good, Savannah. You’re way better than what they say.” She gives me a small smile, one that tries to pull me out of the cloud of self-doubt I’ve been drowning in since lunch.
Ginny nods along, a knowing look in her eyes. “Exactly. Don’t let them get to you. We’ve got your back, and if you want, we’ll help you pick out stuff that makes you feel amazing. Clothes, accessories – whatever makes you feel like you again.”
For a moment, I just stand there, overwhelmed. My mind spins. It’s like this small, fleeting chance to break free from the mess they’ve thrown me into. I’ve always been the quiet one, the girl who blended into the background, but now... now I’m being given a chance to step up. And as much as I want to say no, something in me wants to fight back, to stand taller than the way Rachel’s words have made me feel.
I swallow down the lump in my throat, my hands still shaky. “I... I guess we could do that.” The words come out softer than I intend, but there’s a certain spark of hope buried under all the chaos of the day. Maybe, just maybe, this could help.
Ginny smiles wide, a look of relief crossing her face. “That’s the spirit!” she says, nudging me playfully. “You deserve to feel amazing, Savannah, and we’re going to make sure of it.”
I don’t know exactly what I’m expecting, but I feel this tiny flicker of something—a possibility of change, of standing up for myself, of not letting them define who I am. It’s like I’ve been walking in a fog, and maybe this could be the first step out of it.
We walk out of the classroom together, the weight on my shoulders lifting just a little bit. They’ve got my back. Maybe, just maybe, this time, I won’t let myself fall apart.

Chapter 4: Mom, would you wash my back? This once, and then we can forget.

Summary:

I stood at the edge of my room, taking in the aftermath of last night's party. The glow from my vanity lights hit my skin just right, almost making the mess around me seem like it didn’t exist. Empty bottles, scattered wine glasses, and some leftover snacks were all around. Alicia was glued to the mirror, like always, perfecting every stroke of makeup. Rachel was on the bed, vape in hand, eyes half-closed, a thick cloud of smoke swirling around her. It felt like we had our little routine down—each of us playing our part.

Notes:

Brookes pov!!!

I stood at the edge of my room, taking in the aftermath of last night's party. The glow from my vanity lights hit my skin just right, almost making the mess around me seem like it didn’t exist. Empty bottles, scattered wine glasses, and some leftover snacks were all around. Alicia was glued to the mirror, like always, perfecting every stroke of makeup. Rachel was on the bed, vape in hand, eyes half-closed, a thick cloud of smoke swirling around her. It felt like we had our little routine down—each of us playing our part.
Alicia was always the one who had to look flawless, fussing over her makeup and outfit like it was the only thing that mattered. Rachel? She was the one who didn’t care, always laid-back, always smoking, barely paying attention to anything. And then there was me—the one who had to keep it all together. The one who always wore the mask and made sure everything was perfect, even if everything around me wasn’t.
I bent down, tossing the last empty bottle into the recycling bin. Cleaning up after everyone was just... expected. I was used to it. It had to look perfect. The party had been great—everyone had fun, but now it was back to my real life. The part where I had to make sure everything was tidy, spotless, like nothing had ever happened.
I glanced at Alicia, still perfecting her lip gloss, oblivious to the mess we were in. Then my eyes shifted to Rachel, who was still lost in her phone, tapping away. She didn’t even care about anything, just focused on whatever boy she’d texted. My mind wandered to thoughts I didn’t want to deal with, thoughts of Savannah—of the way she looked at me earlier. I quickly pushed it down, burying it with all the other messy things I didn’t want to face. I couldn’t let it distract me, not now. Not when I had a life to maintain.
"Hey, Brooke," Alicia said, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Did you get that new dress from the boutique? I saw it last night. It's sooo you."
I gave her a small smile, brushing off the lingering feelings I couldn’t place. "Yeah, I picked it up. I’ll show you later." I turned my attention to Rachel, who had gone back to her phone. She let out another puff of smoke, the cloud lingering in the air. It was like nothing ever really mattered to her, not in the way it mattered to me.
We fell into more shallow chatter, the kind that filled the empty spaces in the room. But my thoughts kept drifting back to things I didn't want to face. To Savannah, to the guilt I didn’t know how to shake off. I stole a quick glance at the clock, realizing it was almost time for the next social event. Time to go back out into the world and pretend everything was fine, that nothing ever really bothered me. Just like always.
I grab Rachel’s vape, taking a long drag like it’s second nature. The smoke swirls in my lungs as I hold it for a second, then exhale slowly, passing it back to her. She doesn’t even glance up from her phone. Alicia, always the one to stir the pot, casually asks, “Hey, Rachel, when’s Nathan picking you up?”
Without looking up, Rachel shrugs, totally indifferent. “I dunno, whenever he feels like getting whatever bitch he’s with off his dick.”
The three of us laugh, the sound sharp and almost bitter in the air. It’s the same routine—same shit, different day—but it’s what keeps things moving. Keeps the tension at bay. Rachel doesn’t care. Alicia’s already reapplying her lip gloss. Me? I’m on autopilot, just another day in this over-perfumed, perfect little bubble we’ve created.
I can’t even remember how long it’s been since I wasn’t cleaning up someone else’s mess. The clothes on the floor are a familiar sight—broken bottles, stray heels, and spilled glitter from one of Rachel’s makeup sessions. It doesn’t faze me anymore.
I grab the clothes from the floor and toss them into the laundry basket. The fabric feels almost foreign in my hands, like I’m doing this for someone else. Like this life is someone else’s, not mine.
When I look up, I notice Rachel still hasn’t moved, her vape back in her hands, smoke curling lazily around her head. It’s like she’s in her own little world, like the rest of us are just passing figures in her story. Alicia pipes up again, breaking the lull. “Brooke, have you talked to Sage today?”
I pause, my fingers still on the edge of the laundry basket. “Not yet.” But that’s not unusual, is it? We’re always doing our own thing, our schedules rarely align. I don’t need to talk to him every second of the day to know that we’re fine. Or maybe, I do. I’m not sure anymore.
The vibe in the room is suffocating, but I can’t leave—not yet. I’m stuck in this strange balance, always trying to keep everything together while I’m falling apart on the inside. But I can’t let them see that. I have to stay cool. To stay in control.
I stood up, grabbed a pile of clothes from the floor, tossing them onto my bed. I hated clutter. It made me feel off-balance, like my life wasn’t quite as controlled as I wanted it to be. Everything had to be perfect, even if it didn’t always feel like it was.
"So, have you heard about Ginny?" Rachel asked out of nowhere, catching my attention. I froze mid-movement, wondering what she was about to say. “She’s always been so weird, y’know? Like, she never really gets the whole party thing. It's honestly kind of sad.”
I rolled my eyes without even thinking. “Weird?” I repeated, surprised by her bluntness. “What do you mean?”
Rachel didn’t skip a beat. “I don’t know. Grandma says she got dropped on her head or something. Probably explains why she’s so weird. She never cares about the parties, or any of the stuff that’s actually fun. She’s just... there.”
I scoffed and threw another pile clothes on the bed a little harder than necessary. “Wow, that’s charming, Rachel.”
Alicia, still fixated on her makeup, shrugged. “I mean, it makes sense. Ginny’s always been kinda... different. She doesn’t fit in with us. I’m not surprised.”
Rachel took another hit of her vape, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah, exactly. She’s just kinda sad, isn’t she?”
I wasn’t sure what to feel about it. Part of me wanted to agree with Rachel, to dismiss Ginny as someone who didn’t belong in our world. But then there was this small voice in my head that reminded me that Ginny wasn’t the problem. She wasn’t the one pretending.
“Whatever,” I said finally, brushing the thoughts away like I always did. “We all have our weirdness.” I turned my attention back to the mess of clothes on the floor, trying not to let Rachel’s words settle too deep.
I grabbed my purse and started heading toward the door, not even looking back at Rachel or Alicia.
They weren’t worth dwelling on right now. My mind was already spinning, and the last thing I needed was to get caught up in a conversation about Ginny.
I stood in my doorway, staring at the hallway that stretched out ahead. The silence in the house felt oppressive, almost like it was waiting for something. Or maybe it was just me. I couldn’t stand being cooped up in my room anymore, not with all the thoughts swirling around in my head.
I let out a long breath and pushed myself off the doorframe, walking down the stairs in a slow, deliberate pace. The wooden steps creaked under my weight, each one like a countdown to something I wasn’t sure I wanted to face.
As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, the bright overhead lights felt almost too harsh. The smell of leftover pizza and something faintly sweet hung in the air, but it didn’t do much to comfort me.
My mom was standing by the counter, fiddling with the cabinet doors, her back to me at first. But the second she heard me enter, she turned around, her eyes narrowing as she saw me inching toward the fridge.
“Really?” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Again? You just ate a whole bag of chips last night, and now you’re back for more? Don’t think I haven’t noticed. If you keep this up, I’m going to have to put a lock on the fridge. Or better yet, maybe I should just start counting the calories for you.”
She always had a way of making everything feel like a critique—nothing was ever just casual with her. It felt like everything I did was another opportunity for her to make some biting remark, like she was always just waiting for me to slip up.
I didn’t even know how to respond, so I just reached into the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water instead, wishing I could vanish into the shadows and not deal with this right now.
“And another thing,” she added, almost too casually, “your hair’s getting all uneven. You need a trim. I’ve already scheduled an appointment for you next Thursday. Can’t have you walking around looking like a mess."
The weight of her words hung in the air, like she was picking at every little thing about me without even realizing. Or maybe she did, and that was just the point. I didn’t know anymore. I just nodded, tightening my grip on the bottle in my hand, already wishing I could retreat back upstairs and disappear from it all.
marched back upstairs, my steps loud against the hardwood, as my mom's words echoed in my head like nails scraping on a chalkboard. "You're wasting your potential, Brooke." "Why can’t you be more like—" Ugh. Every syllable felt like a jab. I threw open my bedroom door with force, slamming it behind me, needing the separation. My hands were shaking, and I didn’t even care. Locking it felt almost satisfying as if it could lock out all the shit that had been thrown at me today.
I grabbed the bottle of vodka sitting in the corner of the room, the cool glass offering a small sense of relief as I twisted the cap off. The burn as I drank was like an old friend—familiar, comforting. I needed this right now.
“Alicia,” I muttered, walking over. She didn’t need me to say anything—she could read the frustration in my face.
“Here.” I shoved the bottle toward her, not bothering to explain. She could tell what had happened, what my mom had said. Alicia didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the bottle and took a long swig, wiping her lips as she looked back at me.
“Your mom’s a pain in the ass,” Alicia said, her eyes softening a bit. “But hey, forget about her for a while. Let’s just go do something, get out of here.” She tossed the bottle up and caught it with a grin. “What do you want to do? Let’s go fuck around, get into something.”
I flopped back onto my bed, sinking into the soft sheets as the alcohol started to settle in, loosening the tight knot in my chest. The anger, the frustration—it was all melting away. “Let’s just leave. I don’t care. My mom can kiss my ass.”
Alicia smirked, bouncing on her heels. “Hell yeah. Let’s do something reckless. Something that’ll make us feel alive.”
Before I could even respond, Rachel popped into the conversation. Finally pulling herself away from her phone.
“What are you two doing? Planning on causing trouble?” she asked, her voice thick with boredom, though curiosity flickered behind her eyes. She was always like that—casually interested, never fully invested, but always watching.
Alicia raised an eyebrow, nudging me with her elbow. “We’re thinking of going out, doing something fun. You in?”
Rachel shifted to sit up off the bed,posing herself in a way she had perfected, crossing her arms as she glanced between us. “Maybe. But, Alicia, won’t your parents notice you snuck out again? What happens if they ground you this time?”
Alicia rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall. “Yeah, and? If they do, I’ll just cut myself or something. Freak them out so bad they’ll forget all about it.” Her voice was sharp, but there was something under it—something brittle.
Rachel’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the faintest flicker of discomfort in her eyes. “Right. Let's just hope they don't send you to one of those hospitals again.” she said dryly, reaching for the bottle Alicia had been holding. “Whatever. Let’s just go. Sitting here’s boring me to death.”
Alicia grinned, as if Rachel’s sarcasm was some kind of validation. “Exactly. Let’s make tonight worth it.”
Rachel took a long pull from the bottle before handing it back to Alicia. She glanced at me, one corner of her mouth tugging upward in a smirk. “You coming, or what? Or are you gonna stay here and be a fucking prude?”
For a moment, I hesitated, the weight of my mom’s words still heavy in the back of my mind. But then I looked at the two of them—Rachel with her effortless rebellion, Alicia with her careless defiance—and I wondered if maybe I needed this. If maybe, just for tonight, I could forget about everything else.
I grabbed my jacket. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 5: Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll

Summary:

We entered the mall, and the moment we stepped inside, the bright lights and busy crowds made me feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. It was all so... different. My shoes squeaked on the polished floor as I tried to keep up with Ginny and Lina, who were practically buzzing with energy. They darted in and out of stores, checking out the latest trends like it was second nature to them. I couldn’t help but feel out of place, like a fish trying to swim in a pond that was too big for me. But, I pushed it aside, reminding myself that I was here to fit in, to be part of something. Maybe, just maybe, I could pull this off. I just had to keep going.

We entered the mall, and the moment we stepped inside, the bright lights and busy crowds made me feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. It was all so... different. My shoes squeaked on the polished floor as I tried to keep up with Ginny and Lina, who were practically buzzing with energy. They darted in and out of stores, checking out the latest trends like it was second nature to them. I couldn’t help but feel out of place, like a fish trying to swim in a pond that was too big for me. But, I pushed it aside, reminding myself that I was here to fit in, to be part of something. Maybe, just maybe, I could pull this off. I just had to keep going.
Lina stopped by a window display, eyes lighting up when she spotted a jacket. “You need this, Sav,” she said, pointing to the sleek leather jacket that was more expensive than I could even imagine spending on a single item of clothing.
Ginny bounced up beside me, her arms crossed, scanning the store. “Yeah, totally. A little splurge would do you good. You’ve got potential, girl.”
I blinked, unsure how to respond. My old wardrobe, made up of oversized sweaters and jeans that fit a little too loosely, felt like it had no place here. But something about the way they said it made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, I could step out of my shell.
“Maybe...,” I hesitated. "How much is it?"
Lina shrugged, grinning. "Don't worry about it. Let’s just try it on and see." She grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the door, and I followed, heart pounding in my chest. It was now or never.
Inside the store, the air was thick with the scent of fresh leather and perfume. The music was louder here, more upbeat, and it made me feel like I needed to act faster, to keep up with the rhythm of the world around me. Ginny and Lina were already scanning the racks, pulling out clothes in various sizes, almost instinctively.
As I stepped into the dressing room, I felt a rush of nerves. What if it didn’t fit? What if I looked ridiculous? The jacket slid on easily, the soft leather molding to my arms in a way that felt luxurious. When I stepped out of the dressing room, Lina and Ginny’s eyes widened.
“Okay, yeah. This is you,” Ginny said, nodding approvingly as she took in the look. “This is the kind of vibe you need. Trust me, this jacket is gonna be your thing.”
I bit my lip, glancing at myself in the mirror. I didn’t feel quite like myself, but for the first time in a long time, I didn’t mind. I almost looked... confident. At least, for a moment.
Lina was already pulling out her wallet, ready to pay. “You’re wearing it today, right?”
Before I could protest, she waved me off. “Trust me. It’s worth it. You’ve gotta own this
The afternoon passed in a blur of shopping, laughter, and the occasional awkward moment where I wasn’t sure what to pick or how much to spend.
Lina and Ginny were like pros, breezing through racks and finding the perfect pieces for me. I could barely keep up, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of choices. They kept pushing me to try on things I wouldn’t have normally considered, from tight-fitting crop tops to low-rise jeans that I didn’t think I could pull off.
The “clean girl” aesthetic they were helping me build came together perfectly—cute, effortless, but still a bit edgy. We grabbed soft sweatshirts in pastel colors, a couple of skirts that looked way too short, and some high-waisted denim shorts that screamed summer. Lina picked out a skincare set for me, all of the essentials—cleanser, moisturizer, and a brightening serum that I would’ve never known how to choose on my own.
They also tossed some makeup into the mix. Light foundation, a nude lipstick, a soft blush—things that could enhance what I already had.
I kept checking the price tags, getting nervous about what was stacking up in my arms, but they reassured me. "Don't worry," Ginny said with a wink. "This is all part of the transformation. You’ll thank us later."
It didn’t feel like me, not yet. But as I stood there, looking at myself in the fitting room mirror, I had to admit—it didn’t look bad. It felt like a new version of me was starting to form, and even though I wasn’t entirely sure who she was yet, I had a sense I might be starting to like her.
I turned to Lina and Ginny, still clutching the clothes we’d picked out together. “But what about you two?” I asked, frowning slightly. “You’ve been helping me this whole time. Aren’t you going to get anything?”
Ginny waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about us. We’ve got plans.”
“Special treatment plans,” Lina added with a smirk.
Before I could ask what that meant, Lina suddenly held out a credit card and pushed it into my hand. “Here. Get more clothes. Finish up while we go get done up ourselves.”
My jaw dropped as I stared at the card. “What? No way. I’m not using this.”
Lina tilted her head, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “What the fuck? Yes, you're using it. That’s literally why I brought it.”
“I can’t just—”
“You can, and you will,” she cut me off, already backing toward the beauty section with Ginny. “It’s part of the plan.”
I watched as the two of them walked off, whispering and giggling like they had some elaborate scheme in mind. My hand tightened around the card, the unfamiliar weight of it both exciting and intimidating. Shopping for myself was already pushing my boundaries, but this?
For a moment, I stood frozen, torn between the discomfort of spending someone else’s money and the thrill of being told to just go for it. Slowly, I exhaled, glancing back at the racks of trendy clothes and imagining myself in them—the polished, effortless version of me I’d always wanted to be.
“Well,” I muttered under my breath, “guess we’re doing this.”
I wandered into a few fancy stores, places I’d only seen on TikTok and Pinterest before. Brandy Melville was the first stop, of course, with its perfectly curated racks of cropped sweaters, delicate tank tops, and pastel everything. From there, I ventured into Aritzia, where the mannequins practically whispered "expensive but worth it," and Urban Outfitters, which had that effortlessly cool vibe I could never quite pull off. I even stopped by Free People, fingers brushing over soft fabrics that screamed casual luxury. Each store felt like its own little world, one I was still learning to navigate.
Eventually, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Lina. "Meet us at the front. You’re not ready for this, lol." I smirked and quickly grabbed the last top I was debating over before heading to the register.
As I rounded the corner toward the fountain at the mall’s main entrance, I spotted two girls standing there who looked so striking that, for a moment, I didn’t even recognize them. One had sleek, light orange and blonde hair, the color of sunset over a desert, tied back into a casual low ponytail, while the other had a soft, understated elegance that made her seem like she’d just walked out of a vintage film.
I stopped mid-step, blinking as my mind tried to connect the dots. It wasn’t until they both turned toward me and grinned that it clicked.
“Lina? Ginny?” I blurted, staring at them.
“What do you think?” Ginny asked, smoothing the hem of her fitted sage-green midi skirt. She was dressed in muted tones—feminine and refined, yet effortlessly stylish. Her sheer olive blouse, tucked into the high-waisted skirt, paired perfectly with her dainty kitten heels and soft green pearl earrings. Her makeup was subtle yet glowy, enhancing her sharp cheekbones and fluttery lashes. She looked like a walking mood board for classic, feminine fashion.
Lina leaned casually against the fountain, hands in the pockets of her oversized beige cargo pants. Her cropped black tank top showed just a sliver of her stomach, and a thin silver chain hung from her neck. The light orange of her hair glinted under the mall lights, looking almost golden in the reflection. Chunky black platform sneakers grounded her whole streetwear-inspired look, and her expression was as cocky as ever.
I blinked at them, trying to process. “Okay, hold on. What alternate dimension did I just walk into? Because… you two look insane. Like, in the best possible way.”
Ginny gave a modest smile, brushing some imaginary lint from her sleeve. “We figured, why let you have all the fun today?”
Lina’s smirk widened as she stood up straighter. “Yeah, you’re not the only one who gets a makeover. We’re team players.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I mean, Ginny, you look like you’re about to walk into a tea party for royalty, and Lina… you could probably intimidate a whole runway.”
Ginny looped her arm through mine, her rose-scented perfume soft but noticeable as she pulled me closer. “That’s what we’re going for.”
“And don’t act like you’re not killing it too,” Lina added, gesturing toward my bags. “You’ve got the style now, Sav. This mall’s got nothing left for us.”
I glanced at my reflection in a nearby glass window and felt the smallest twinge of pride at how far I’d come today. The cropped tank tops, fitted jeans, and little accessories in my bags weren’t just clothes—they felt like a piece of who I wanted to become.
“You guys are too much,” I said, though I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Speaking of too much,” Lina said, throwing her arm over my shoulder and steering me toward the escalators, “let’s grab dinner. I’m starving, and we need to plan our next move. Operation Confidence Boost is just getting started.”
Ginny beamed, her arm still linked with mine. “And don’t worry—we’re not letting you go at this alone. We’ve got you.”
For the first time in weeks, the weight on my chest felt lighter. With these two, maybe I wasn’t so alone after all.
We ended up at one of those cozy but overpriced bistros tucked away on the upper level of the mall. The lighting was warm and dim, the kind of place where they brought you water in fancy glass bottles and served bread in a little basket with a sprig of rosemary for decoration. Ginny chose a booth by the window, and as we slid into the leather seats, I couldn’t help but notice how the waistband of my jeans dug into my stomach.
My eyes instinctively dropped down, and I adjusted my position, but it didn’t make much of a difference. The soft roll over my waistband felt impossible to ignore.
“You good?” Lina asked, raising a brow as she leaned back against the booth.
I plastered on a smile, grabbing the menu. “Yeah, just trying to figure out what to get.”
She shrugged, turning her attention to her own menu. Meanwhile, Ginny was busy snapping pictures of the table setup.
When the waiter came, I hesitated. Part of me wanted the creamy pasta Ginny ordered or Lina’s loaded burger with truffle fries, but when it was my turn, the words spilled out before I could think too much.
“I’ll just have a salad. Caesar, please.”
Ginny and Lina both paused to look at me, but neither said anything. The waiter nodded and took the menus, leaving us to settle in.
The conversation started light at first—small talk about the stores we’d been to, a joke here and there about how many bags Lina was lugging around. But soon Ginny’s face lit up, a sly smile spreading across her lips.
“So,” she started, leaning her elbows on the table. “Guess who slid into my DMs last night?”
“Uh-oh,” Lina said, narrowing her eyes. “Do I need to prepare myself for this?”
Ginny twirled her straw in her iced tea, dragging out the suspense. “Nathan Campbell.”
Lina froze mid-bite, her burger halfway to her mouth. “Wait. Nathan, as in Rachel’s boyfriend Nathan?”
Ginny laughed nervously, sitting up straighter. “Okay, but, like, hear me out. He wasn’t flirty or anything! He just said he saw me at the mall last week and thought I looked familiar.”
“That’s all he said?” Lina pressed, her tone skeptical.
“Well…” Ginny’s cheeks flushed. “He might’ve complimented my dress. And, okay, we might’ve talked for a while. But I swear I didn’t know he was—”
“Ginny!” Lina groaned, setting her burger down with a dramatic thud. “Rachel is your cousin! You seriously didn’t think about how this would look? You know how she gets!”
Ginny rolled her eyes, brushing off the concern. “Relax. It’s not like I’m trying to steal him or anything. He’s just… fun to talk to. Besides, Rachel’s not exactly a saint in her relationships either.”
“Rachel will lose her mind if she finds out,” Lina said. “And knowing her, she’ll probably turn this into the biggest drama of the year.”
I stayed quiet, picking at my salad while the two of them went back and forth. My appetite was already gone. All I could think about was the way my stomach felt against my jeans, how even sitting in this booth made me hyper-aware of how much space I was taking up.
“Sav?” Ginny asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Huh?”
“What do you think? Am I totally in the wrong here, or is Lina overreacting?”
I glanced between them, trying to piece together something neutral to say. “I mean… I don’t think you’re trying to cause drama or anything. But maybe just… be careful?”
Lina snorted. “Exactly. Be careful before you end up on the receiving end of Rachel’s wrath.”
Ginny waved her hand dismissively. “She won’t find out unless someone says something.”
The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but the tension still lingered. As Ginny and Lina laughed and teased each other, I stayed quiet, lost in my thoughts.
Maybe this whole makeover thing wasn’t enough. Maybe there was still too much of me that I couldn’t change.
The moment the tension from Ginny’s DM drama finally settled, she turned her attention toward me with a mischievous grin.
“So, Sav,” she started, leaning forward like she was about to spill a secret. “What about you? Is there anyone here catching your eye? New school, new boys—you’ve got options now.”
I froze mid-sip of my water, feeling the weight of their stares. My cheeks burned, and I let out a nervous laugh, trying to brush it off. “Uh… I mean… I guess there’s someone.”
Ginny’s eyes lit up as she gasped. “Wait, seriously? Spill!”
“Yeah, who?” Lina chimed in, grinning as she folded her arms on the table.
I hesitated, debating whether I should even say anything. But under their combined scrutiny, it felt impossible to lie. Finally, I sighed, staring at my half-empty plate. “It’s… Sage.”
The air at the table shifted instantly. Ginny sat up straighter, her eyes wide with shock. “Sage?” she repeated, her tone sharp with disbelief.
As soon as I said Sage’s name, Lina practically choked on her drink, coughing into her napkin as she stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Sav,” she said, her voice dropping into that sharp, scolding tone she used when I did something she couldn’t wrap her head around. “You’re joking, right?”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, already regretting saying anything. “No, why?”
Lina threw her hands in the air, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Why? Because he’s with Brooke, that’s why!”
I sighed, fiddling with the edge of my napkin. “Yeah, I know. I know they’re together.”
“Wait, what?” Ginny interrupted, her eyes darting between us. “You knew?”
“Of course, I knew,” I said, my voice small. “You're the one that told me, and besides, they're not exactly shy about it.”
“Then why the hell are you crushing on him?” Lina demanded, leaning across the table like she was trying to get closer to whatever made me tick. “That’s Brooke’s boyfriend, Sav! You’re setting yourself up for disaster.”
I winced at her words but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t like I had chosen to like him. I couldn’t help it. Sage wasn’t like Brooke. He was kind, funny, easy to talk to. He noticed me in ways no one else did.
Ginny’s expression softened, and she reached over to place a hand on my arm. “Hey, we’re not trying to gang up on you or anything,” she said gently. “But you know how Brooke is. If she catches even the slightest hint that you’ve got a thing for Sage, she’s going to make your life hell.”
“She already does,” I muttered bitterly, sinking into my seat.
“Yeah, but this would give her an excuse,” Lina said, her voice losing some of its edge. “You think she’s mean now? Imagine what she’d do if she thought you were trying to move in on her boyfriend.”
“I’m not,” I said quickly, looking between them. “I’m not trying to do anything. It’s just… I don’t know, a stupid crush. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Ginny frowned, giving me a look that was a little too knowing for my liking. “It doesn’t feel stupid when you talk about him.”
My face flushed, and I dropped my gaze, unable to meet hers. She wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t want to admit that out loud. It already felt pathetic enough in my head.
Lina sighed, sitting back and crossing her arms. “Look, we get it. He’s nice, and Brooke is the worst, but you’ve gotta be careful, Sav. Brooke loves to stir the pot, and Sage? He’s nice to everyone. It’s not like you’re special or something.”
The words hit harder than I wanted them to, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping back. I knew Lina wasn’t trying to be mean, but it still stung.
Ginny gave her a sharp look before turning back to me. “What she’s trying to say is, you’re better off focusing on you right now. Sage is… complicated. And if it’s not him, there’ll be someone else. Someone better.”
“Someone who’s not tied to Brooke,” Lina added with a pointed look.
I nodded, even though their words felt hollow. I wasn’t planning to do anything about it anyway, but hearing it out loud just made it all feel more hopeless.
“I get it,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands. “It’s not a big deal. I just… won’t think about it anymore.”
Ginny squeezed my arm, giving me a small smile. “Good. Because you deserve better than getting dragged into Brooke’s drama.”
Lina nodded, and we all fell into an uneasy silence. The food in front of me felt even less appetizing now, but I forced myself to take a bite, hoping the lump in my throat would go away before they noticed.

Chapter 6: And when I walk into the room, people stop and stare It's like nobody else is there

Summary:

Today was going to be different, I told myself. I wasn’t going to let Rachel’s comments, Brooke’s attitude, or anyone else’s nonsense mess with me. I had spent the weekend trying to feel better, trying to remind myself I deserved to walk those hallways like anyone else.

Notes:

This is the last chapter I have written so far! Expect the next one to be ready Soon!

I would like your guys' feedback though, should I upload chapters a couple at a time, like I did today, or one at a time?

If I upload multiple one day It will take me a lot longer but I think the output will definitely be worth it!

Also how often should there be a brook pov chapter? Like every 4 chapters there's a brook one? or should I stop them all together? Lmk!!

Monday mornings always came too soon. I groaned as my alarm buzzed beside me, the harsh noise slicing through the quiet calm of my room. After a moment of lying there, staring at the ceiling and dreading another week of high school, I forced myself up, pushing the blanket off and shivering slightly as the morning chill hit my skin.
Today was going to be different, I told myself. I wasn’t going to let Rachel’s comments, Brooke’s attitude, or anyone else’s nonsense mess with me. I had spent the weekend trying to feel better, trying to remind myself I deserved to walk those hallways like anyone else.
I pulled myself out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. The mirror stared back at me, and I decided right then that I wasn’t going to do the bare minimum. Not today. I grabbed my brush and started working on my hair, smoothing out the waves that had formed overnight. I parted it down the middle and worked some leave-in conditioner through the strands, making it soft and glossy. I decided to keep it simple but sleek, pulling the top half back into a claw clip while leaving the rest to fall down my back in gentle, loose waves.
Next came my makeup. I pulled out the products Lina and Ginny had helped me pick over the weekend. Starting with a light layer of tinted moisturizer, I evened out my complexion. A little concealer under my eyes helped cover the shadows that hinted at how little I had slept. I brushed a soft, peachy blush onto my cheeks, giving myself a healthy glow, and added a subtle highlighter to the tops of my cheekbones. For my eyes, I kept it clean—a touch of warm brown eyeshadow in the crease, a flick of black eyeliner that elongated my eyes just enough, and a generous coat of mascara that made my lashes look long and fluttery. I finished with a swipe of clear lip gloss, catching the light perfectly without being too much.
Satisfied with my face, I stepped back into my room to figure out what to wear. My closet, once a source of stress, now felt like a canvas after the shopping spree. I pulled out a white, cropped tank top that fit snugly, showing just enough of my stomach to feel daring but not uncomfortable. I paired it with a pair of low-rise, light-wash jeans that sat perfectly on my hips, the kind of jeans that felt like a statement all on their own. Over the tank, I threw on a cropped beige cardigan, soft and cozy but structured enough to pull the outfit together.
For shoes, I reached for my white platform sneakers—they added a little height and made me feel more put-together. I layered a few dainty gold necklaces around my neck, ones Ginny had convinced me to buy, and slipped on a pair of small gold hoop earrings. My nails, freshly painted a soft, neutral pink over the weekend, tapped against the edge of my dresser as I adjusted the bracelets on my wrist.
I glanced at myself in the mirror, taking in the effort I’d put in. My reflection felt like a stranger—a good one. I felt polished, like I belonged.
"Okay," I said to myself quietly. "This is it."
I grabbed my bag, slinging it over one shoulder, and took a deep breath before heading downstairs. Today was going to be better. It had to be.
As I stepped down the stairs, my mom’s voice rang out from the kitchen, a bit louder than usual. “Holy shit, Savannah, you look gorgeous this morning!” Her words startled me, and I hesitated for a moment, but then a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.
I glanced over at her, trying to avoid looking too pleased. She was at the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious—probably some kind of egg scramble or pancakes, knowing her. “Thanks,” I said, giving a small shrug. It felt nice to hear, even if I wasn’t entirely used to compliments coming from her. “I’m just getting ready for school.”
My mom chuckled, still stirring. “I swear, you could be a model, the way you look today.” She glanced at me again with a proud smile, her eyes twinkling.
I felt my cheeks warm, but I didn't say anything else. Instead, I walked over to the kitchen counter, setting my bag down, and started rummaging through the fruit bowl. “Can you just pack some fruit for me? I’ll eat it in the car,” I said, trying to avoid a full-on breakfast at the house. The thought of sitting down for a big meal made me anxious, especially after everything that had happened lately.
My mom frowned for a second, her hands pausing in mid-air as if to argue, but she quickly relented. “Okay, okay,” she sighed. “But I’m making eggs or something too. Don’t come crying to me when you’re starving halfway through the day.”
I half-laughed. “I’ll be fine.”
I grabbed some sliced strawberries, an apple, and a banana, stuffing them into a small container she’d left out for me. As I closed the lid, I saw her grab the car keys from the counter and give me a sly grin.
“We’re driving the Tesla today,” she said, holding them up with a little flourish, like it was some big announcement.
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. The Tesla? I hadn’t expected to drive it today, not when we usually took the less flashy car out for school mornings. I glanced at her, already feeling a rush of excitement bubbling up.
“Really? You’re serious?” I asked, my voice a little too eager.
My mom raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my reaction. “Yep. Today’s a special day.” She tossed me the keys. “You’ve been working hard on this whole… transformation or whatever, so you deserve a little treat. Plus, we can show off that new look you’ve got going on.”
I caught the keys, feeling a sudden rush of both excitement and pressure. The Tesla was one of those things that was almost too nice to be real, the kind of car that made people look twice when they saw it. I’d always felt a little strange in it, like it was too extravagant for someone like me, but today, I couldn’t help but feel a little pride welling up inside.
“Alright,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. “Let’s do it.”
We finished getting ready in a flurry of final touches—me finishing up the fruit and my mom grabbing her purse—and headed for the door. As we stepped outside into the cool morning air, I felt a little twinge of excitement, but also the familiar nerves. Today felt like the first real day I was truly stepping into my new self, even if I didn’t fully know what that was yet.
The car was waiting for us, gleaming in the driveway. The familiar sleek lines of the Tesla seemed to shine a little brighter today, almost like they were calling me to show up and own the world.
I slid into the passenger seat, buckling up as my mom settled into the driver’s seat. The car purred to life, its electric hum filling the silence between us.
“You ready for today?” my mom asked, her eyes glancing over at me as she pulled out of the driveway.
I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready,” I said quietly. And as we pulled onto the road, heading toward school, for the first time in a long while, I actually believed it.
As soon as I stepped out of the Tesla, I felt all eyes on me. It wasn’t the same as before—the usual subtle glances or quick stares—but a full-on attention. It wasn’t even just the usual crowd of people who seemed to notice me today; no, it was almost everyone in the area. The kind of attention I usually dodged.
I waved to my mom as she drove off, giving her a small smile that felt a little forced, and then turned toward the school building. The cool air cut through my thin sweater, making me pull my jacket closer around me as I walked. It was like I was walking through a tunnel of whispers, my name carried on the breath of a few students as they passed.
“Yo, who’s that?” a voice from behind me whispered, barely loud enough for me to catch.
I didn’t even turn around. I knew exactly who they were talking about. I could hear the shift in their tone—the curiosity mixed with that quiet surprise.
“Dunno, never seen her before. New girl or something?”
I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks, but I kept my head high and focused on where I was going. The sounds of my footsteps felt louder than usual as I made my way toward the north hall. I walked past groups of students, their gazes following me like I was something to be examined. It was like being on display at a zoo—people pointing out little things they found interesting or unusual.
“Is that the girl in the Tesla?” I heard someone say. "Damn, she’s... different."
I could feel the sting of their words, but I kept walking. Their judgment was like static in the back of my mind, nothing worth stopping for.
I reached the entrance to the north hall and finally spotted Lina and Ginny. They were leaning against the lockers, chatting quietly, looking effortlessly cool, as usual. When they saw me, both their faces lit up, and they waved me over, smiling like they were ready for the day ahead.
But as I walked toward them, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being under a microscope. A small group of freshmen passed by, one of them whispering loudly enough for me to catch it. “That’s gotta be a girl from the rich side. Look at how she’s dressed. She definitely shops at all those fancy places.”
I felt the weight of their words again, but this time I forced myself to ignore it, to walk with my head high. They didn’t know me, not really.
“Hey,” I said to Lina and Ginny, my voice a little louder than usual to drown out the background noise. I gave them both a quick hug, relieved to have them nearby.
Ginny gave me a once-over, her gaze lingering for a second before she grinned. “Looking fresh as hell, Sav. You’re turning heads today.”
Lina smiled too, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes, like she was already reading the way the hallway felt. “Don’t mind them,” she added, her voice soft but firm. “Let them talk. They don’t know shit.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, trying not to let my unease show. It was still hard to brush it off. The stares felt almost suffocating, like I couldn’t escape them.
I glanced around at the people walking past—some still glancing at me, others completely indifferent. A couple of girls from my math class whispered to each other as they walked by, their eyes darting toward me, their voices barely audible but enough for me to hear. “She looks… different. I bet she’s trying too hard.”
It was like I couldn’t win. No matter what I did, no matter how I dressed, how I tried to act, it felt like I was always just one step away from being the center of unwanted attention.
I forced a breath out, trying to center myself. I wasn’t about to let them get to me. Not today.
“Let’s just get to class,” I said with a sigh, glancing at my phone to check the time. “Can’t deal with this for too much longer.”
Ginny chuckled, clearly seeing right through my attempt to act casual. “You’ll be fine, trust me. Just stick with us, and no one can touch you.”
“Yeah,” Lina added, her smile a little sharper now, the protective streak in her coming out. “Don’t let anyone’s nonsense get to you. They’re just jealous. Besides, you look amazing.”
“Thanks, guys,” I said, offering them a small, grateful smile. As we made our way down the hall, the whispers faded a little, but I could still feel the eyes on me—though this time, I decided to walk with my head a little higher. I wasn’t just blending into the background anymore. Whether they liked it or not, I was finally being noticed.
I felt it before I even saw them. The air felt heavier as I approached the lockers. It wasn’t until I was right there that I saw her—Brooke, flanked by Rachel and Alicia. Brooke was leaning against the locker, arms crossed, her usual aura of cool confidence gone. She looked tired, maybe even drained. The faint remnants of last night's mascara smudged under her eyes, and her hair looked flat, like she hadn’t bothered to put it together this morning.
But the moment her eyes landed on me, everything shifted. She straightened up, her posture stiffening like she was already ready for a fight.
Alicia, ever the loyal sidekick, was the first to speak. "Oh, Brooke?" she said with an exaggerated sweetness, glancing at me. "She was up all night shooting for that commercial. You know, working hard, unlike some people."
Brooke didn’t even look at her. Her focus was all on me, and I felt it. The weight of her gaze, the judgment simmering just beneath the surface. She didn’t miss a beat.
"Nice clothes," she said, her voice sharp, like she was cutting through the air between us. "But you know, nice clothes don’t cover up the calories."
My stomach dropped, and I felt the heat creep up my neck. Her words hit harder than I expected. It wasn’t just the insult, it was the way she said it. So matter-of-fact, like it was something she had been waiting to say, and now she finally had the perfect moment to throw it at me. Her smirk was almost smug, like she had just won some unspoken battle.
Rachel, always with her detached, sarcastic attitude, snickered. "Damn, girl," she muttered under her breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear. "You didn’t even see it coming, huh?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out at first. What was I supposed to say to that? I tried to shrug it off, but the words stung more than I cared to admit.
Ginny and Lina were right next to me, both of them tense, but neither of them spoke up right away. They were waiting for me. But this wasn’t something they could fix for me.
Brooke stood there, her arms still crossed, looking smug. Alicia looked over at me with a fake smile, one that felt like she was waiting for me to crumble.
"You know, Savannah," Brooke continued, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "I just don’t get why someone like you would dress up like this. It’s kinda embarrassing. Like... you think people won’t notice?"
I stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to keep my cool, but inside I was already unraveling. My mind was screaming at me, telling me to turn around, to walk away, to ignore her, but the words were stuck in my throat.
Lina stepped forward, her voice firm. "Brooke, enough," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "You're not even making sense anymore."
Alicia shot Lina a warning glance, but Brooke was still staring me down, waiting for me to flinch, to respond.
“Seriously,” Brooke went on, “you can try all you want, but some things are just... obvious.” She laughed a little, the sound harsh and cutting. "You’re still the same old Savannah, aren’t you?"
I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. She was still going, like she had all the time in the world to tear me down. Every word felt like it was digging deeper, like she was trying to make sure everyone heard. But the worst part was that she was right.
I wasn’t the confident girl she thought I was. I was still me—just trying to figure it all out. And the more she pushed, the harder it became to keep up the act.
But instead of letting her see the cracks, I just turned on my heel, walking past her, my head held high, even though I could feel my chest tightening with anxiety.
Ginny was right behind me, her voice cutting through the tension. "Don’t let her get to you, Sav. She’s just mad 'cause she knows you’re better than her, even if she doesn’t want to admit it."
Lina nodded in agreement, but we didn’t stop walking. We didn’t need to. As we left the hallway, I could still feel the weight of Brooke’s words hanging in the air, but I wasn’t going to let them own me. Not today. Not anymore.
I wasn’t sure if I had just won or lost, but one thing was for sure: Brooke wasn’t going to break me, not if I could help it.
I glanced back at them, and my stomach churned. Sage and Brooke were standing together, laughing softly, her hand resting on his chest as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. It wasn’t the usual, casual interaction I’d seen between couples. No, this was different. It was affectionate, genuine even, like they were the only two people in the world.
And there they were—Rachel, snapping pictures of them like she was documenting some kind of fairy tale, her lips curled into a sly grin. Alicia was busy touching up her makeup, totally unfazed by the entire scene, like it was just another day for her to watch her friend get all the attention.
I didn’t get it. How could they be so unaffected by the chaos they caused? How could they look so happy, so untouchable, while I was standing here, feeling like I was being torn apart by their every word? Were they even aware of how much damage they were doing?
It wasn’t just the fact that Sage and Brooke were practically glued together, acting like they were the perfect couple, or that Rachel was capturing the moment for some kind of twisted social media game. It was the way they carried themselves, like nothing could touch them, like they didn’t even care. I couldn’t help but think about how everything they did was just another way to show how much power they had over everyone around them.
And Sage—how could he stand there, looking so comfortable with them? How could he not see what they were? I didn’t know why it hurt so much, but it did. The fact that he seemed so happy with someone like Brooke, someone who had never once treated me with anything but disdain, made my skin crawl.
Did he even realize what he was walking into? Or was he so caught up in their world that he didn’t care? Couldn’t he see through it?
I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat, but I forced it down. I couldn’t stand here and watch them anymore, watch as they kept making me feel like I didn’t belong. I needed to get away from it, from them, from everything.
Without thinking, I turned and walked away, my mind in turmoil, trying to make sense of everything.
Lina’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, her words soft but carrying an edge of annoyance. “Hey, let’s get to class. They’ll probably go hide in the bathroom once the bell rings anyway.” I nodded, trying to push the frustration down, knowing she was right. Brooke and her crew would probably retreat into their little bubble, acting like nothing had happened. It was the same old cycle, and I was done letting them get to me.
Ginny was distracted for a moment, eyes glued to her phone. She let out a small laugh, her lips curling into a smirk. “See you guys at lunch,” she said, her voice light with amusement as she typed something, likely to Nathan. Her face lit up in that way it always did when she was talking to him, and for a brief moment, I forgot about everything else around me.
Lina shot me a knowing glance, and I realized I’d been zoning out again, my thoughts drifting back to Brooke and Sage, their overly affectionate exchange still fresh in my mind. I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs as I tried to shake the feeling off.
Ginny slipped her phone back into her pocket, her mood still a little giddy from the text, while Lina kept her arm around my shoulder as we made our way to the north hall. “Don’t let them get to you,” Lina muttered, her voice warm but firm. “We’ve got more important things to focus on.”
I didn’t say anything at first, just nodding and letting myself get lost in the motion of walking. It felt like everything was changing, but not in the way I thought it would. I’d gone through all this trouble to fit in, to feel good about myself, but nothing felt right. Every time I thought I was getting closer to the life I wanted, I ended up getting shoved back into this awkward, painful place of comparison.
Maybe it was the way they looked at me—or worse, the way they didn’t even bother to. They were so far ahead of me in this twisted game of high school politics.
But Lina was right. I couldn’t waste my energy on them. I had to focus on me.
Instead of focusing on the assignment like everyone else, I found myself absentmindedly flipping through the pages of my notebook, writing. There was a pull in me to write my feelings down, to release the tension that had been building up all morning. The pen moved over the paper like it had a mind of its own, and as I wrote, I felt a strange kind of relief.
Lina, noticing I wasn’t paying attention to class, leaned over with a mischievous grin and passed me a folded note. I unfolded it with a small, curious smile.
“Bored? Me too,” the note began, written in Lina’s familiar scribble. “What are you thinking?”
I quickly jotted back, “Just trying to make sense of all the shit that happened this morning.”
She read it, then wrote back with a teasing flare: “What if you could just... overthrow Brooke? You could totally do it.”
My eyebrow arched as I read her words. Overthrow Brooke? A part of me wanted to laugh at the audacity of it. I mean, wasn’t that exactly what they wanted? But then again... part of me couldn’t help but wonder.
I passed it back, my handwriting slightly more deliberate as I scribbled, “Brooke was so jealous of you today. I swear, I saw it in her eyes when she looked at me.”
Lina’s eyes flicked over the note, her lips curving into a sly smile. She quickly wrote back, her pen almost a blur. “I knew it. You have no idea how much she talks shit about you. It’s kinda pathetic, honestly. What if... what if you tried going after Sage?”
I froze for a second, my heart skipping a beat as I read the words. Go after Sage? The idea seemed absurd at first, but then I started picturing it. Sage and I. In the same way that Brooke and Sage were always together, the idea of me and him—well, that would send her over the edge. I could almost imagine it now.
My heart pounded as I wrote back: “You really think that would piss her off?”
Lina’s response came fast, the excitement practically radiating off the page: “Hell yeah. It’d be like lighting a firecracker under her. She wouldn’t know what hit her. She might even lose her mind.”
I stared at the note for a moment, unsure if the idea excited me or terrified me. Was I ready to make that kind of move? To actually do something that could get me into even more trouble with her?
But then I thought about everything Brooke had said. All the comments, the looks, the way she made me feel like I didn’t belong. Maybe I didn’t want to just be invisible anymore. Maybe I wanted to play the game, too.
I passed the note back to Lina with a shaky breath, “I don’t know if I can. But maybe... maybe I will.”
Lina smirked at me as I looked down at my lap, the weight of the decision starting to sink in. This wasn’t just about school anymore. It wasn’t just about fitting in. It was about something bigger. Something personal. And in that moment, I realized that it might be time to stop being a passive player in this drama, and start shaking things up.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and I snapped out of my thoughts, pushing the note into my bag before anyone noticed. But as I stood to leave, I couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corners of my lips. Things were about to get a lot more interesting.
As I settled into my seat in history class, trying to shake off the nerves from earlier, I caught a glimpse of Sage walking in. He looked effortlessly cool in his black jeans and a football jersey. I couldn’t help but glance at him as he made his way down the aisle, his presence easy to notice. But I quickly forced my eyes back to my notebook, pretending to focus on the work in front of me.
He strolled up to the desk next to mine and slid into the seat without hesitation. "Hey, Savannah," he greeted me with a small, easy smile. "I just transferred into this class. Glad I know someone here."
I tried to act casual, my heart skipping just a little. "Yeah, me too. History’s a drag, but at least I’ve got some company now."
He chuckled lightly, glancing at the paper in front of him. "Right? I’m not really into it either." He shrugged, clearly not stressed about the work. "But hey, we can get through it together."
We both started working, occasionally glancing at each other as we did the assignment. It was nice. Comfortable. But I couldn't ignore the whispers and glances we were getting from other students. Some people were definitely eyeing us, especially him, but neither of us paid much attention. I was more focused on the quiet hum of conversation and the occasional chuckle from Sage when he cracked a joke.
By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of class, I was starting to feel a little more at ease, like maybe I could handle the day after all.
Just then, the door to the classroom opened, and a tall, striking guy strolled in. He was wearing a white tank top under a hoodie, oversized blue jeans, and Vans. His brown and blonde hair was styled in a messy but intentional way. But what really caught my attention were his eyes—one was a warm brown, and the other a bright blue. Heterochromia. His eyes locked onto me for a moment before he smiled.
"Woah, Hooters," he said, his tone a little teasing as he looked at me. It was the nickname for Sage, I realized. The guy seemed to recognize me, his gaze lingering for just a second. "You must be Savannah, right?"
I was a little caught off guard. He was cute, in a confident, laid-back way. My stomach fluttered just slightly, but I forced myself to stay cool.
"Yeah, that’s me," I replied, trying to keep my tone even. "And you are?"
"Tom," he answered, his grin wide. "Nice to meet you." His gaze lingered on me for a beat longer, and for some reason, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something about him. A charm, maybe, or just the way he carried himself with an easy confidence.
Sage stood up, clearly not phased by Tom’s flirtations. "Tom’s a good guy. You’ll like him."
Tom gave me one last lingering glance before turning his attention back to Sage. "Alright, man, let’s get out of here."
I nodded, watching them leave the classroom. There was something about Tom’s smile, the way he had looked at me, that left a strange feeling in my stomach. I shook it off, but I couldn’t deny the little flutter of excitement I felt when he smiled at me.
What was it about him? It wasn’t just his good looks or the attention he’d given me. It was the way he seemed to see me. Or maybe I was just overthinking things.
As I gathered my things and prepared to leave, I couldn’t help but wonder if something would happen with Tom or if it was just another fleeting interaction that would disappear as quickly as it came. I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high, but there was something about the way he had looked at me that I couldn’t shake.
Maybe this school year was going to be more complicated than I thought.
Lunchtime felt like a breath of fresh air. The cafeteria was buzzing with the usual noise—laughter, gossip, the clinking of trays—but none of that mattered to me right now. It was just me, Ginny, and Lina, sitting at our usual spot. The warm glow of the lunchroom sunlight came in through the big windows, casting a soft glow on the table where we sat, each of us picking at our food in silence for a moment, soaking in the calm before the storm.
Ginny was twirling a fork through her salad, still dressed in her muted, feminine tones, while Lina had her head tilted back in that carefree way, scrolling through her phone with one hand while the other propped up her chin. Both of them, as usual, exuded effortless coolness. And I? I was still trying to adjust to this new version of me—more confident, more visible. I felt like I was constantly peeling back layers of the old Savannah, the one who used to shrink into the background.
But as I chewed a bite of my food, I felt someone’s eyes on me. My gaze flickered up just as I noticed Tom and Nathan walking toward us. Tom was as effortlessly cool as ever, his multi-colored hair tousled just right, eyes sparkling with mischief. Nathan, on the other hand, looked like he just walked off a motorcycle—tough, mysterious. His leather jacket creaked as he moved, and the edgy, rebellious vibe that surrounded him made me feel a slight shift in the air.
“Hey, ladies,” Tom grinned, his voice warm but laced with an underlying hint of flirtation. “What’s going on here? You all mind if we join you?”
I could barely manage a smile as I looked at him, heart skipping a beat despite myself. He was… different. Something about his energy was magnetic, and even though I had only been talking to him for a little while, it felt like there was already a connection. His eyes lingered on me for a moment too long, making me feel both flattered and unnerved.
Lina raised an eyebrow, glancing up from her phone with a casual smirk. “Sure, I guess you can sit. But we don’t bite.” She half-joked, leaning back in her seat as she motioned for them to sit down.
Ginny, however, gave Nathan a polite nod before returning to her salad. I could tell she wasn’t fully buying into whatever was happening, but then again, Ginny had always been the more cautious one of us.
Tom sat down, his thigh brushing mine ever so slightly. I couldn’t help but feel the heat of his body next to mine. He smiled again, his gaze lingering on me. “So, Savannah,” he said, the way he said my name almost like he was testing it out, “how’s your day going so far?”
I tried to keep my cool, but the butterflies in my stomach weren’t helping. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice coming out a little softer than I intended. “You?”
Nathan, who had been quiet until now, suddenly spoke up with a smirk. “Yeah, man. You know, Tom here is usually a bit of a troublemaker. I bet you didn’t know that about him.”
Tom laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Eh, I don’t know. I’m just here for a good time.”
His eyes met mine again, this time lingering a little longer. I could feel the shift in the energy, like there was an unspoken tension between us, building and growing. I shifted in my seat, trying to act casual but failing miserably.
That’s when Rachel appeared. She was strutting across the cafeteria with a look of absolute superiority on her face, her eyes scanning the room like she owned it. She immediately zeroed in on Nathan and Tom, her gaze narrowing.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she snapped as she walked right up to them, the irritation clear in her voice. Her tone was biting as she turned to Nathan, completely ignoring the rest of us. “Talking to these fucking pigs?”
It was like a punch to the gut. Her words hit hard, not just because of the way she said it, but because of the way she made it sound like we were beneath her. I could see Tom’s eyes flash with confusion, his grin faltering as he glanced at Nathan. Nathan, looking a little taken aback, was still trying to process Rachel’s words, but before he could respond, she grabbed his arm and jerked him away from the table.
“Come on,” she sneered, practically dragging him away. “You know better than to associate with them.”
Tom sat there, frozen for a moment, clearly unsure of what just happened. His face was a mixture of confusion and frustration like he was caught off guard by Rachel’s behavior. He glanced at me—then at the others—and gave a nervous chuckle.
“Well, that’s… awkward.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he glanced over at me one last time before retreating to where Sage was sitting.
I sat there, still processing what just happened, my mind racing. Rachel had just bulldozed the situation, not even giving Tom a chance to explain himself. The audacity.
Lina looked at me, raising an eyebrow as if silently asking if I was okay. I nodded quickly, trying to shake off the feeling of being belittled. Ginny, on the other hand, was barely fazed, rolling her eyes as she flicked her phone open again.
“Whatever, let them have their little tantrum,” Ginny muttered, clearly unimpressed. “They’re so predictable.”
I couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment in the pit of my stomach. I had thought that maybe Tom was different, that maybe he wasn’t like them. But in a way, Rachel had just shown me how easily people like him could be swayed by someone like her. Even when he tried to flirt, even when he seemed interested in me, it was clear that Rachel could shut him down without a second thought.
It made me wonder: How could someone like Sage, who had been so nice to me, stay with people like them?
Lina shrugged, cutting through my thoughts. “Come on, Sav, let’s get through the rest of lunch. They’ll probably be too busy making out in the hallway again anyway.”
I didn’t even have to look to know she was talking about Brooke and Sage. The thought of them made my stomach twist again, but I nodded, trying to move on from the awkwardness.
We finished our lunch in silence, the tension still lingering in the air. But I wasn’t going to let it ruin my day. I was going to rise above it. No matter what, I wasn’t going to let people like Rachel or Brooke tear me down. I had come too far. And as much as I hated to admit it, I wasn’t going to let Tom’s retreat into their world shake me.
Not this time.

Chapter 7: Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored. I'm the girl you'd die for

Summary:

“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said, his tone surprisingly sincere. “For earlier. Rachel... she’s a lot, and I didn’t mean to just disappear like that. It wasn’t cool.”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly, though the memory still stung. “You didn’t have to say anything. She’s, uh... kind of terrifying, honestly.”
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, she has that effect on people. But I don’t want you to think I’m like that, okay? I’m not... like her. Or Nathan.”
I nodded, unsure of what to say. There was something about the way he looked at me—like he was trying to prove something, not just to me but to himself.
“I believe you,” I said finally, and his shoulders seemed to relax a little.
“Good,” he said, his smile returning. “So... can I make it up to you? Maybe hang out after school or something?”
My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to stay calm. “I’ll think about it,” I said, giving him a small smile before turning to walk away.
As I headed to class, I could still feel his eyes on me, and for the first time that day, I felt a little lighter.
Maybe things were starting to change.

Ginny tapped her fork against her tray rhythmically, her expression carefully neutral. Lina kept scrolling through her phone, the glow from the screen casting faint shadows on her face. I picked at the edge of my sandwich, the crust crumbling under my fingers as I debated whether I’d even eat it.
“We should skip the rest of the day,” Ginny said suddenly, her voice lilting with mischief. She leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed in a way that screamed she was already planning her escape. “I mean, come on. It’s not like we’re missing anything important.”
Lina frowned, her brow creasing as she glanced up from her phone. “Some of us actually care about our GPA, Gin,” she said, her tone pointed. “And I’ve got AP Physics next period.”
Ginny rolled her eyes, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. “Oh, please. One class isn’t going to ruin your perfect record. Live a little, Lina.”
“And you’d have me live by ditching school to do... what, exactly?” Lina raised an eyebrow. “Wander around town until we get caught and I get grounded for a month? No thanks.”
Ginny sighed dramatically, her eyes flicking to me. “Sav? Don’t tell me you’re siding with her.”
I hesitated, my fingers still fiddling with the sandwich crust. A part of me wanted to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and walk out of this stupid school for the rest of the day. But another part—the part that had been drilled into me by my mom’s voice, always harping on responsibility and perfection—held me back.
“I don’t know,” I said finally, my voice quieter than I wanted it to be. “If I skip, my mom will probably find out, and she’ll freak. You know how she is.”
Ginny groaned, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. “You two are no fun. Fine. I’ll go to class like a good student, but don’t blame me when I start climbing the walls from boredom.”
Lina smirked, shaking her head. “I’ll take my chances.”
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and we all stood to leave. I tossed my untouched sandwich into the trash as we walked toward the hallway, my stomach twisting with guilt. Not because of Ginny, but because of the truth I didn’t want to admit to myself.
I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and even that had been half a granola bar I’d shoved into my mouth on the way out the door. I told myself I wasn’t hungry, that it didn’t matter. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t about hunger.
It was about control.
As we stepped into the hallway, the familiar hum of voices and slamming lockers surrounded us. I felt a pair of eyes on me, and when I glanced up, I saw Tom leaning against the wall near the stairwell. He wasn’t with Nathan or Rachel this time—he was alone, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.
He smiled when he saw me, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
“Hey, Savannah,” he called, his voice cutting through the noise.
Ginny and Lina exchanged a look, and I could practically hear Ginny’s smirk without even turning to see it.
“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” I muttered, my cheeks heating up as I walked toward him.
Tom straightened up as I approached, his smile widening. “Got a second?”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said, his tone surprisingly sincere. “For earlier. Rachel... she’s a lot, and I didn’t mean to just disappear like that. It wasn’t cool.”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly, though the memory still stung. “You didn’t have to say anything. She’s, uh... kind of terrifying, honestly.”
Tom chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, she has that effect on people. But I don’t want you to think I’m like that, okay? I’m not... like her. Or Nathan.”
I nodded, unsure of what to say. There was something about the way he looked at me—like he was trying to prove something, not just to me but to himself.
“I believe you,” I said finally, and his shoulders seemed to relax a little.
“Good,” he said, his smile returning. “So... can I make it up to you? Maybe hang out after school or something?”
My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to stay calm. “I’ll think about it,” I said, giving him a small smile before turning to walk away.
As I headed to class, I could still feel his eyes on me, and for the first time that day, I felt a little lighter.
Maybe things were starting to change.

 

The final bell rang, releasing the school into the chaos of the afternoon. Students poured into the hallways, their voices bouncing off the walls as lockers slammed and sneakers squeaked against the tile floors. I slipped my phone out of my pocket as we walked toward the exit, half-listening to Ginny and Lina bickering about something I couldn’t follow.
When the familiar buzz of a notification vibrated in my hand, I glanced down, expecting another pointless group chat message. But the name on the screen stopped me cold.
Tom Dawson: Hey, where do you want to go?
The text was simple, almost casual, but it felt anything but. My fingers hovered over the screen, my mind racing.
Ginny was the first to notice my hesitation. “What’s up with you?” she asked, leaning over to peer at my phone. When she saw the name on the screen, her eyes went wide, and she let out a sharp laugh. “Oh my God. No freaking way.”
Lina stopped mid-sentence, turning to look at me with a frown. “What’s going on?”
“Tom Dawson just slid into her DMs,” Ginny announced dramatically, earning an audible gasp from Lina.
“What?” Lina stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the message on my screen. “Wait. He asked where you want to go? Like... to hang out?”
“That’s what it looks like,” I muttered, trying and failing to keep my face from flushing.
Ginny grabbed my arm, her nails digging in slightly as her excitement bubbled over. “Sav, this is huge. He’s totally into you. Like, seriously into you.”
Lina tilted her head, her skeptical expression softening into something more thoughtful. “Well... he’s not dating Brooke, and he didn’t seem like the typical guy who only flirts with whoever’s popular. If he’s reaching out to you, it’s probably because he wants to get to know you, not because it’s some kind of game.”
“Sage, though,” Ginny interjected, rolling her eyes. “You know that whole mess with him and Brooke. If you’re done with that, this is definitely the way to go. Tom’s better anyway. And not to mention, it would make Brooke lose her mind.”
I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. “I don’t know,” I said quietly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “What if he’s just messing with me? What if this is some kind of joke?”
Ginny groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Sav, come on. Look at the guy. He’s cute, he’s nice, and he just DM’d you. This isn’t a joke. This is fate or karma or whatever you want to call it, handing you a chance to live your best life.”
Lina crossed her arms, her expression serious. “You don’t have to decide right now, Sav. But I think Ginny’s right about one thing: Tom doesn’t seem like the type to pull something like that. If he’s reaching out to you, it’s probably because he genuinely wants to get to know you.”
The buzzing in my chest intensified as I stared at the message. Part of me wanted to believe them, to trust that Tom wasn’t just another one of Brooke’s pawns. But another part—the part that had been burned too many times before—couldn’t shake the doubt.
“What should I say?” I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ginny grinned, her excitement contagious. “Tell him you’re free tonight. Keep it cool, though. You don’t want to come off too eager.”
Lina sighed but didn’t argue. “Just... be yourself. If he likes you, it’ll be because of who you are, not some fake version of you.”
I nodded slowly, typing out a quick reply before I could overthink it: I’m free tonight. Did you have anywhere in mind?
The message sent with a soft swoosh, and I felt like I’d just jumped off a cliff with no idea where I’d land.
Ginny grabbed my phone again, scrolling through Tom’s profile as if trying to memorize every detail. “Okay, seriously, he’s way better than Sage. Like, it’s not even a contest. And if this makes Brooke lose her mind in the process? Bonus points.”
Lina rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s not make this about Brooke. If you’re going to do this, it should be because you want to—not because it’ll get under her skin.”
“Who says we can’t do both?” Ginny shot back, winking.
I laughed despite myself, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. Maybe they were right. Maybe this wasn’t a prank or some cruel joke. Maybe Tom really did want to spend time with me.
And maybe, just maybe, this was my chance to finally take control of my own story.

 

When I got home, I was still buzzing from the message Tom had sent earlier. My heart was racing, but I tried to calm myself down. I needed to get inside, sit down, and figure this out.
I stepped into the foyer, dropping my bag by the door, and immediately heard the sound of my mom in the kitchen. She was always there when I got home from school, usually humming along to something on the radio while she prepped dinner. But today, I could feel the weight of my decision pressing on me already.
I slid into the kitchen, my heart picking up again when I saw her standing by the stove, stirring something in a pot. Her back was to me as I walked in, and I took a deep breath.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“Hey, sweetie. How was school?” She didn’t even look up, her voice warm and familiar.
“Good,” I replied, walking over to grab a drink from the fridge. My mind was already racing, thinking about how to handle this. I knew she’d be hesitant about me going out tonight, especially since it was a bit late.
I closed the fridge door and leaned against the counter, suddenly unsure of what to say. Then, just as I was gathering my thoughts, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Tom again, asking if I was good to meet at the park around 6. I glanced at it, trying not to let my excitement show.
“Hey, Mom... so, um, can I go to the park with some friends tonight at 6?” I asked, the words tumbling out a little faster than I intended.
She paused mid-stir, finally turning around to face me. “The park? At 6? Are you sure that’s okay? It’s getting pretty late, Sav.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, it’ll be fine. I’m just meeting up with Ginny.” I knew that was a lie. Ginny was probably going to be busy with her own plans, and I was definitely not meeting her mom. But I didn’t want my mom to worry about Tom. I didn’t want to get questioned.
Her brow furrowed for a moment, and I could see the hesitation in her eyes. I wasn’t exactly a fan of lying, but I was running out of options. “Hmm... who else will be there? And is there going to be a parent around?”
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach as I fought the guilt that was trying to rise. “Yeah, they’ll be there. It’ll be fine, Mom. I’ll be home before 10.”
She let out a small sigh, her gaze softening as she seemed to consider it. “Alright. Just make sure you’re not out too late, okay? I don’t want you wandering around after dark by yourself.”
“Promise,” I said quickly, maybe a little too quickly. “I’ll be home by 10. I’ll just call you if anything changes.”
My mom smiled softly, clearly satisfied with the answer, even if she was a little unsure. “Alright. Just be safe, okay?”
I nodded, guilt eating at me but also a spark of excitement that kept bubbling up to the surface. “Thanks, Mom. I will.”
She went back to stirring, and I turned to leave the kitchen, my stomach twisting with the weight of my lie. But as I walked toward the stairs, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to go. I had to see Tom, no matter what.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Brooke would find out, or if Sage would somehow interfere. But in that moment, none of that mattered. All I could focus on was getting ready, looking my best, and stepping into something that, for once, was just for me.
I quickly made my way down the hall to my room, my steps a little too quick as my pulse spiked with anticipation. The door clicked shut behind me as I rushed over to my closet, yanking it open to stare at the sea of clothes hanging inside.
My mind raced. What should I wear? What would make me look good, but still not too eager? I had no idea what Tom was expecting, but I knew I had to look right. I wasn’t going to just throw on any random outfit.
I pulled out a few options, tossing them onto my bed as I considered each one. The first was a short, flowy floral dress—light and airy, with soft pinks and whites. It was sweet and feminine, but would it be too much? Too flirty?
I hesitated, then grabbed another dress—this one dark navy, a little more subtle, but still with that gentle flow. It wasn’t too formal, not too casual. Perfect, maybe?
But then I saw it: my favorite black ankle boots, the ones I always felt confident in. They added just enough edge to balance out the sweetness of the dresses. They were comfortable, too. I didn’t want to be focused on my shoes all night.
I looked between the two dresses. The navy one was nice, but the floral one made me feel more alive, more myself. I had to go with it.
I slipped off my school clothes and pulled the short, flowy floral dress over my head. The fabric gently brushed against my skin as I adjusted the fit, the dress hugging my waist and flowing out just enough to give it a breezy feel. The high neckline kept it from feeling too revealing, while the short skirt showed off my legs without being over exposed. It felt... effortless.
I grabbed the ankle boots and slipped them on, feeling the sturdy heels click against the floor as I stood up to admire myself in the mirror. The outfit made me look soft but confident, light but strong. I felt a little more like the version of myself I wanted to be—uncomplicated but bold, feminine yet unapologetic.
I ran my fingers through my hair, which I’d left loose, and gave myself another look in the mirror.
I added a little more makeup—nothing too heavy, just enough to make me feel confident, like I could stand out without trying too hard. I found myself staring at my reflection, running my fingers through my hair and applying the slightest coat of mascara to make my eyes pop. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking, but I felt... pretty. For the first time in a while, it was like I wasn’t trying to hide, like I didn’t need to shrink myself into the background.
As I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup, my phone buzzed on the dresser.
I jumped, my heart racing for a second before I saw the name on the screen. Tom Dawson.
I stared at it, frozen for a moment. What the hell was I supposed to say? Was I really ready to talk to him? What if I said something stupid? What if I totally screwed this up?
I took a deep breath, forced myself to calm down, and finally swiped to answer the call.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice came out a little higher than usual.
"Hey, Savannah," Tom’s voice was smooth, like warm honey, and I swear I felt my heart skip a beat. "Just wanted to check in—are you still good for tonight? Do you need a ride?"
I blinked, processing the question. A ride? My mind instantly went to a thousand different scenarios. I was about to go out with him. Actually go out with him. What did I even say?
"Uh, yeah, sure," I said quickly, almost too quickly, but then I hesitated. "But... you gotta promise me something."
There was a pause on the other end, and I could hear him shift, like he was paying attention now. "Yeah, what’s up?"
"Try not to let my parents see you," I said, my voice a little quieter. "They think I’m going out with Genevieve. You know, the whole thing about... not wanting them to know I’m hanging out with anyone else."
There was another brief silence, and I bit my lip, hoping I hadn’t overstepped, that I hadn’t made things too awkward.
But then Tom chuckled softly. "I got you," he said, the teasing note in his voice making me feel lighter. "I’ll stay out of sight. Don’t worry. I’ll pick you up at the corner, around six?"
"Perfect," I breathed, relief washing over me. I could feel myself starting to relax, though the nervous buzz in my chest still lingered.
"Alright," he said, and there was a smile in his voice. "See you then, Savannah."
"Yeah... see you," I replied, feeling a strange mix of excitement and anxiety knotting in my stomach.
As soon as the call ended, I exhaled loudly, sitting on the edge of the bed, my mind racing. I was actually going to meet him. I was actually going to go out with Tom Dawson. The guy who had just called me and wanted to hang out—not just in some casual, “let’s chill” way, but tonight. What had I gotten myself into?
But at the same time... something about it felt right. For the first time in a while, I felt like I was doing something for me. Something that didn’t involve playing it safe or staying hidden in the background.
I stood up, glanced at myself in the mirror one last time, and smiled a little to myself. Yeah, this is happening.

As I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup, my phone buzzed on the dresser.
Tom: I'm here. Outside. You ready?
I froze. My heart did a little flip, and panic surged through me. Oh God, this was real. It wasn’t just a flirtation or some random plan. He was really here. He was really waiting for me.
I glanced at the clock. It was 5:58. I had two minutes to get my shit together.
I quickly grabbed my purse, glanced one last time at the mirror, and ran out of my room, trying to push down the wave of nerves rising in my chest.
"Mom, I’m leaving!" I called as I bolted downstairs.
She peeked out from the kitchen, eyebrow raised. “What? Where are you going? You’re eating dinner here, right?”
I hesitated for half a second. “Uh... no. Sorry, I’m gonna eat at Genevieve’s. She’s making spaghetti or something, I don’t know, I—uh—I’ll be back later.”
My mom narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything more. She knew Genevieve well enough to trust that we’d be fine, and honestly, I was pretty sure she wasn’t paying attention to the details. “Alright, just be back before 10,” she called after me, the usual tone of worry in her voice. But it didn’t stop me. I was already out the door.
I moved quickly down the front steps, my breath coming a little faster now. My hands were shaking as I texted a quick, "On my way!" to Tom, before slipping my phone into my pocket.
I rounded the corner of the house and stepped into the street, scanning the sidewalk. And then I saw it.
A sleek, jet-black car was parked at the curb. It looked almost too perfect—too expensive. A brand-new Porsche 911, its polished surface reflecting the fading sunlight in gleaming highlights. The car was low to the ground, built for speed and luxury. The curves of its body were aerodynamic, designed to cut through air as much as it cut through the attention of anyone who looked at it. The tires were spotless, and I could hear the faint hum of the engine as Tom revved it slightly, just enough to let me know he was waiting.
I couldn’t help but gawk for a moment, my stomach doing another flip. This wasn’t just some regular guy. This wasn’t someone trying to impress me with the usual high school clichés. This was wealth. This was status. The kind of car I’d seen in magazines and movies but never imagined I’d be close to.
The driver’s side window rolled down, and there was Tom, his grin crooked but relaxed. “Hey, Savannah,” he called out, his voice low and smooth, the kind that made my pulse spike. “You ready to go?”
I felt a little dazed, caught off guard by the car—and him—but I nodded quickly, shaking off the nerves. "Uh, yeah," I said, forcing a smile that I hoped looked more confident than I felt. "Sorry, I’m just... not used to... this."
He laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and I could see a flicker of something in his eyes. “It’s all good. Hop in.”
As I walked closer, I could smell the faint scent of leather and something expensive, something that matched the car—something that screamed money. I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, trying to act casual as I buckled up. Tom’s car was way more comfortable than anything I’d ever been in, and it wasn’t lost on me that the interior was just as pristine and immaculate as the exterior.
“Let’s go.” he said, shifting the car into gear. As he drove off, I glanced out the window, my heart still racing.
Tom's car wasn't just a ride; it felt like a glimpse into a world I wasn’t sure I belonged in—but tonight, I wasn’t going to overthink it. Tonight, I was just going to enjoy the ride.
We kept driving in a comfortable silence, but I could feel the tension building between us. It was the kind of tension I’d never been good at handling, especially with someone like Tom. He was so effortless, so confident, and here I was, trying not to freak out with every turn of the wheel.
But after a moment, I glanced over at him, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies that were starting to settle in my stomach. “Uh, hey... is this like a date?” I finally asked, my voice betraying just a hint of the nerves I was trying to suppress.
Tom gave me a quick glance, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he steered the car with ease. "If you’d like it to be," he said, his voice smooth, almost too smooth. "Gives me a better excuse to get to know you than Rachel being an asshole, right?"
My cheeks flushed, and I looked out the window for a moment, trying to steady myself. Did he just... flirt with me? The calm, confident way he said it made me feel like I was the only one in the world who
"You’re a little full of yourself, aren’t you?" I managed to tease, trying to hide the nerves in my voice.
Tom laughed, the sound warm and easy. "Maybe. But if I wasn’t, would you even notice me?" he asked, his tone playful yet serious.
I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound a little more genuine now. “I guess I’d have to,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
His eyes flicked to me for a moment, and for just a second, it felt like the car had shrunk, like it was just the two of us in the whole world. There was something magnetic about him, something that made my pulse race and my thoughts scramble. And for once, I wasn’t overthinking it. I wasn’t second-guessing everything I said.
“Fair enough,” Tom said after a beat, the smile never leaving his lips as he focused back on the road. “But I think Rachel’s a little mad that I’m spending time with you. You sure you can handle Rachels temper from hell?”
I couldn't help but grin at his teasing. “I think I can handle it.”
Tom’s smirk grew, and he gave a small nod, like he’d just won a point in some silent game we were playing. "Good to know."
We fell into an easy rhythm after that. Small talk here and there, but nothing too intense. It wasn’t long before we reached the park, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the trees and pathways. The air felt crisp, and even though the evening was just starting, it already had that peaceful, relaxed vibe to it.
Tom pulled up to the side of the park, stopping near the entrance where a couple of cars were already parked. He turned to me with that same easy smile. "Well, here we are.”
I laughed, feeling a little more at ease. "Thanks for the ride," I said, glancing at the sleek black car again. "I mean, really. You didn’t have to pick me up in this thing."
Tom raised an eyebrow, clearly not agreeing with my statement. "Maybe not. But I figured, if I was going to make an impression, I might as well do it properly."
It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Yeah, I’m definitely impressed," I said dryly, but I could feel my cheeks flush again, a smile tugging at my lips.
"Good," he said with a wink. "Let's go get some fresh air, yeah?"
He opened the door and stepped out, holding it open for me. I hesitated for just a second before I climbed out of the car, the cool night air greeting me as I stepped onto the pavement. Tom was already walking toward the park, his long strides making it seem like he knew exactly where he was going.
I took a breath, following him, trying to shake off the nerves still curling in my stomach. This wasn’t just some hangout with a guy I barely knew anymore. This was something different. Something that felt like it had the potential to change everything.
And for the first time in a long time, I was ready to let it.
The park felt quiet, the last remnants of sunlight fading and giving way to the evening’s cool air. We wandered down the winding path, stepping lightly over the uneven ground, both of us content with the silence at first. But then Tom cleared his throat, his voice suddenly popping up with an awkward excitement.
“So... what kind of music do you, uh, listen to?” he asked, his fingers drumming in the air.
I blinked, a little surprised by the random question, but smiled anyway. “Oh, um... a lot of stuff, actually. I guess I’m kind of all over the place. Mostly indie stuff, though.”
Tom made a face, clearly intrigued. “Indie, huh? So... like, sad songs that make you think about your life choices and how it’s all one big existential crisis?”
I snorted. “Pretty much, yeah. But also a lot of acoustic guitar and soft vocals.”
“That sounds deep,” Tom said, nodding sagely, but his attempt at sounding serious was ruined by the exaggerated hand motions he made. “I respect it. I mean, my playlist is mostly weird meme music and whatever I hear on TikTok. It’s a vibe, I swear.”
I laughed at his absurdly serious tone, trying not to choke on my own giggles. “TikTok music?”
He threw his hands up in mock defense, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “Hey, hey, it’s a vibe! Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve heard a full 30-second clip. There’s some genius out there, okay?”
I couldn’t help but laugh harder, shaking my head. “I think I’ll pass. I’m not ready for that level of... TikTok.”
Tom winked, clearly proud of himself. “Fair enough. But, hey, if you ever want to expand your horizons... you know where to find me.”
The playful banter felt easy, surprisingly comfortable. I wasn’t sure why, but something about Tom’s goofy confidence was disarming. He didn’t try to impress me; he just... was. And for once, I didn’t mind.
“So, what do you do for fun, then?” I asked, feeling more at ease now.
Tom thought for a second, tapping his chin like he was deep in thought. “Well, I’m an expert at absolutely failing at video games, like, all the time. And, uh, sometimes I bake cookies. Not that they’re ever good enough for anyone to eat... but I try.”
“Cookies, huh?” I grinned, imagining him in a kitchen, probably burning them on the regular. “What kind of cookies?”
“Mostly ones that are... way too gooey,” he admitted, wincing slightly. “And sometimes I add random stuff, like M&Ms or Reese’s pieces, and hope it all works out. Sometimes it does, sometimes... it’s like eating cookie dough and regret. But hey, it’s an experience.”
I chuckled. “I’ll be honest, I’d eat your cookies. I’m not picky.”
Tom threw me a delighted look. “You’re my first willing customer! I’m holding you to that. Maybe next time we hang out, I’ll bring some. If I don’t completely burn them first.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him, fully committed to making me laugh. “I’m counting on you,” I teased. “If you fail, I’ll know you didn’t try hard enough.”
We both laughed, walking further along the path. The whole night, despite its strange start, felt easier. The tension I’d walked into it with had melted away bit by bit, thanks to Tom’s silly, carefree nature. Even though he wasn’t perfect—far from it, actually—he was refreshing in a way that I hadn’t expected.
“So, you gonna tell me what you actually do for fun?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Me?” I blinked, taken off guard by the question. “Uh... I mostly read, honestly. And I like running. Kinda boring stuff, but it works for me.”
“Running, huh?” he said with a grin. “Well, I bet you’d beat me in a race. I’ve got all the coordination of a giraffe on roller skates.”
“Deal,” I said without hesitation, feeling a spark of competitive energy. “I’ll race you one day.”
Tom shrugged dramatically, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I’ll let you win... for a reason. To make you feel better, you know?”
“Uh-huh,” I said, smirking. “Sure. That’s definitely why you’d let me win.”
“Exactly,” he said, nodding as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “You’re welcome.”
The easy conversation continued, each of us trying to top the other with silly little jokes. When it was time to leave, Tom walked me back to his car, still making me laugh with his dorky, self-deprecating humor.
“Okay, so... how does the whole not telling your parents thing work?” he asked, his tone playful but teasing. “You sure your mom’s cool with you being out this late?”
I gave him a half-embarrassed smile. “Well, you know I told her I was going out with Genevieve... and not, y’know, you.”
Tom made a face. “Ouch. So I’m not even in the ‘Genevieve’ category?”
“Unfortunately, no,” I said, my grin widening. “You’re still... the new guy. Which, you know, gives me a little wiggle room.”
“Nice,” he said, nodding. “I’ll take it. I mean, I am kinda new. So I guess I can’t blame you for that.”
As we reached his car, he opened the door for me with an exaggerated bow. “Your chariot awaits, fair lady.”
I giggled, feeling more at ease with him than I had in a long time. “Thanks, kind sir.”
He winked as I got in, and once I was settled, he hopped into the driver’s seat. “Alright, ready to go back? Don’t want your mom thinking you’ve been abducted by aliens or anything.”
“Definitely ready,” I said with a grin, feeling lighter than I had all week.
He started the engine, and as we drove back through the quiet streets, Tom kept up the silly banter, trying to make me laugh with each little story or joke. And even though I knew this wasn’t some big romantic moment, there was something easy about it. Something... real.
The car hummed quietly as Tom made his way through the streets, and I couldn’t help but feel oddly relaxed despite everything. The evening had gone by faster than I thought, and it didn’t feel like we were driving back from some weird, awkward hangout. It felt like… well, it felt like we were just two people who didn’t have to pretend, just enjoying each other’s company.
“So,” Tom said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Do you do anything besides hang out with, uh, Genevieve and pretend to be normal?”
I chuckled, the teasing in his voice making it even easier to respond. “Pretty much. I mean, I used to volunteer at a shelter. It’s just, like... some community thing my mom got me into. I didnt mind it, but it wasn't exactly thrilling.”
Tom's eyes lit up at the mention of the shelter. “That’s actually awesome. Doing good stuff, I like it. I do, uh, some volunteer work too. At this animal rescue place. I mostly just end up getting sneezed on by dogs... but hey, at least I’m doing something productive.”
I laughed, imaging Tom covered in dog fur with a look of frustration. “I can totally picture that. It’s probably not glamorous, huh?”
“Nah, I’m basically their favorite chew toy. But I can’t say no to the cute faces.” He paused, glancing over at me briefly, a more serious note creeping into his voice. “Honestly, though, it’s good for me. Keeps me grounded. Plus, I get to leave there with an unearned sense of righteousness.”
“That’s the best kind of righteousness,” I said with a grin. “The kind you didn’t actually have to work for.”
He let out a loud laugh at that. “Exactly. No effort, just results.”
The conversation dipped back into light banter as we made our way closer to my neighborhood. I could see my house just up ahead—too big, modern, and too sleek. I hated it, but I hated the thought of this moment ending more. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such an easy time talking to someone. It was almost strange, how comfortable it felt to just… be myself around Tom.
“So,” Tom said, suddenly more serious, glancing at me with an easy smile. “You ready for the awkward ‘goodbye’ part of the evening?”
I raised an eyebrow. “The what?”
“You know,” he said, his voice playful but a little hesitant. “The ‘well, I had fun, hope you get home safely’ kind of thing. Like, do we hug? Do we awkwardly wave and pretend it was no big deal?”
I snorted. “I think the awkward part was definitely over by now. I’m pretty sure we’re past that point.”
Tom looked at me sideways, his lips twitching as if he was trying to hold back a smile. “Good. Because I’m not sure I’m ready for a hug just yet... but the wave might happen.”
I smirked, playing along. “I’ll give you a wave. But only if you promise not to overdo it with the awkwardness.”
“Deal,” he said, nodding solemnly. “I’ll keep it classy. No weird hand gestures, I swear.”
The car slowed as we neared my house. The streetlights flickered softly, casting a golden glow on the sidewalk as we came to a stop in front of the curb. I suddenly felt nervous again, like I hadn’t been the entire time before.
“Well, here we are,” I said, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “I guess this is it.”
Tom turned off the engine and looked over at me, his eyes bright. “Yep. Had a good time, though. It was actually... not as weird as I thought it’d be.”
I laughed softly. “Same here. Definitely not as weird.”
There was a brief pause, and I could feel the tension in the air shift just slightly. I had a million things I wanted to say, but for once, I was at a loss for words.
“Hey,” Tom said quietly, breaking the silence. “You gonna be okay with the whole, like, your parents thing?”
“Yeah,” I said, a little unsure but mostly relieved. “I’ll be fine. I’m good at pretending.”
Tom gave me a look, like he was half-suspicious of that answer, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he smiled, a playful glint in his eye. “Well, if you ever need me to help with the pretending, I’m a pretty good actor. You know, in case you need backup.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
I opened the door and slid out, but paused before fully stepping away. Turning back, I gave him a small wave. “Thanks for tonight, Tom. I really did have fun.”
He waved back, his goofy grin spreading wider. “Anytime, Sav. Anytime.”
Before I could second-guess myself, I started walking up the driveway, glancing back one last time to see Tom drive off. His car disappeared around the corner, leaving me standing there in front of my house, still buzzing from everything that had happened.
It felt a little surreal, honestly. But for the first time in a long while, it also felt like maybe things were changing. For the better.
I pushed open the front door, my mom’s voice floating from the kitchen. “Savannah? You back already?”
“Yeah,” I called, slipping off my shoes and shrugging off my jacket as I made my way down the hallway. “I’m just gonna head to my room.”
I could hear her calling after me, but I didn’t catch what she said. I didn’t feel like answering right then. Instead, I made a beeline for my room, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. I leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then let myself fall onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
My thoughts were a whirlwind of everything that had happened in the last couple of days. Tom, Rachel, Brooke, the strange tension in the air between everyone—I couldn’t seem to get it all out of my head. But Tom… he kept standing out. He had been so different from the rest of the guys, so different from the ones I’d known before. And yet, there was still that undercurrent of uncertainty—was I really just some distraction for him? Or was he actually... interested in me?
I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them tightly as I thought back to the moments when we’d laughed together, when he’d said he didn’t mind pretending for me. It felt real. Too real to just be some passing thing. But I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what to make of it.
Was I jumping to conclusions? Did he like me, or was I just overthinking everything?
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away for the time being. I didn’t want to overanalyze it. Not now.
Instead, I started to get ready for bed, pulling the blankets back and slipping under them, my mind still racing. I glanced at my phone, the screen lighting up with a message from Tom. My heart skipped a beat as I read it:
Had fun tonight. Glad I got to know you more. We should do it again sometime.

I couldn’t help but smile, a warm feeling spreading through me. It wasn’t just the words. It was the way he made it feel like it was an invitation—like he actually wanted to spend time with me again.
“Yeah,” I whispered to myself, as if he could hear me. “I had fun too.”
But as I put my phone down and closed my eyes, my mind wandered back to the other part of my life—the part I couldn’t ignore. Brooke. Rachel. Sage. They were all still there, lurking in the background, waiting to tear me down again. The reminder of them, of everything they’d ever done to me, was enough to make my stomach twist.
Would they ever just leave me alone?
I closed my eyes tightly, trying to push the thoughts away. This moment was mine. The one with Tom. The one where things felt... possible.
And for once, maybe that was enough.

Chapter 8: I wanna drink until I ache. I wanna make a big mistake

Summary:

The night air was cool against my skin as I crouched by Alicia’s bedroom window, the soft hum of crickets in the distance. The glow of the streetlights flickered across the lawn, casting long, eerie shadows against the trees. Alicia was halfway out the window, balancing herself on the edge, her feet dangling like she wasn’t on the verge of falling.
Rachel stood beside me, cigarette dangling lazily from her fingers, her sharp eyes watching Alicia with impatience. “Hurry up, Alicia. You’re taking forever,” she muttered, blowing out a puff of smoke.
Alicia let out an exasperated sigh, finally getting her feet through the window and hoisting herself the rest of the way out. She stumbled slightly when her boots hit the ground, but caught herself easily. There was a kind of grace in her every move, like she’d done this a million times.

Notes:

BIG EMEOTPHOBIA TW!!!

The night air was cool against my skin as I crouched by Alicia’s bedroom window, the soft hum of crickets in the distance. The glow of the streetlights flickered across the lawn, casting long, eerie shadows against the trees. Alicia was halfway out the window, balancing herself on the edge, her feet dangling like she wasn’t on the verge of falling.
Rachel stood beside me, cigarette dangling lazily from her fingers, her sharp eyes watching Alicia with impatience. “Hurry up, Alicia. You’re taking forever,” she muttered, blowing out a puff of smoke.
Alicia let out an exasperated sigh, finally getting her feet through the window and hoisting herself the rest of the way out. She stumbled slightly when her boots hit the ground, but caught herself easily. There was a kind of grace in her every move, like she’d done this a million times.
I couldn’t help but watch, a small knot forming in my stomach. Alicia had been sneaking out for years. It wasn’t even a challenge for her anymore. Her parents? They didn’t have a clue. They were strict, sure—but Alicia? She had them wrapped around her finger. Guilt-trips, fake tears, “I’m sorry, mom, I didn’t mean to disappoint you” — the usual act. Every time she’d sneak out, she’d come back with some new excuse about how hard she’d tried to be good, how she couldn’t have known things would go wrong, and within a day, her parents would let her off the hook.
It was infuriating. They trusted her without question.
I took a long swig from the bottle of Jack Daniel I’d been carrying around, trying to push away the uncomfortable feeling that had settled in my chest. I couldn’t figure out if I was envious of Alicia or disgusted by her. Or maybe both.
“Done yet?” Rachel called, clearly growing tired of waiting. She flicked her cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with a heel.
Alicia glanced over her shoulder, her cocky smile wide as she dusted off her jeans. “No worries, girls. I’ve got it under control.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want to risk getting caught again? I mean, your parents—”
“Relax, Brooke,” Alicia interrupted, giving me a knowing look. “My mom’s a softie. She’ll cry for five minutes, say something about how she can’t trust me anymore, and then we’re good. I won’t be grounded for more than a day. It’s just the way things go.”
I rolled my eyes, but honestly, I couldn’t help but admire her ability to get away with it. Alicia was a pro at manipulation, and she knew it. Her parents never stood a chance against her guilt trips. She’d learned from a young age how to spin a web of fake remorse, just enough to get them to soften. And it worked every damn time.
Rachel started walking down the street, her heels clicking against the pavement. I took another pull from the bottle, the cool burn of the liquor calming my nerves. I wasn’t here to judge Alicia. Hell, I wasn’t even here to judge myself. I was here because I wanted to escape, too.
“You should really stop drinking so much,” Alicia teased, her voice laced with amusement as she caught up to me. “Don’t want you passing out before we even get to Evan’s place.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Maybe I’ll get wasted. Who cares?”
“Yeah, if you’re not careful, you’ll be the one everyone’s babysitting by the time we get inside,” she shot back with a grin.
I just shrugged. I wasn’t worried about it. There was something freeing about not caring. About losing control for a while, and letting the night take me where it wanted to go.
As we walked, I couldn’t stop thinking about Alicia’s parents. The way they always let her slip through their fingers, always falling for her sad little act. I knew she didn’t care. She didn’t have to. She’d never face real consequences.
It was like she lived in a different world, one where she was untouchable. And I couldn’t decide if I hated her for it or if I envied her.
“So, we really heading to Evan’s house?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the heavy thoughts in my head.
Rachel’s voice floated back to us. “Yeah. Chill. It’s not far.”
Right. Not far. Just a bunch of drunk teenagers in some random house, trying to forget who they were for a few hours. I could do this. I could just keep pretending for a little while longer.
As we neared Evan’s house, I felt the familiar knot of anxiety stir in my chest, but it was quickly replaced by the alcohol burning through me. I took another swig, feeling the buzz start to cloud my mind. It felt good to forget everything else, even if it was only for a few hours.
“Ready for this?” Alicia asked, nudging me lightly as we walked up the driveway.
“Sure,” I muttered, not sure if I meant it.
Rachel, already a few paces ahead, gestured for us to follow. “Let’s go! We’ve got a party to get to.”
Alicia caught up quickly, throwing an arm around Rachel’s shoulder as we all began walking down the street toward Evan’s place.
As we neared the house, I spotted Nathan and Sage hanging out by the front gate, leaning against the metal fence with their backs to us. Nathan’s gaze shifted the moment Rachel approached, his eyes narrowing as he took in her outfit.
He scoffed loudly, clearly not impressed. “Why are your tits hanging out so much, Rach?” Nathan sneered. “Cover up. You look like you’re asking for it.”
Rachel didn’t even flinch, just shooting him a sharp glance. “Shut up, Nathan. Don’t tell me what to wear.”
I couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable at the way Nathan always made women feel small. He’d get under your skin, act like he was the authority on what was right and wrong. He had this smug superiority that could ruin a night, and Rachel seemed to let him.
Sage, however, caught my eye, his expression softer. He walked over and gave me a small smile. “Hey, Brooke. Just... try not to drink too much tonight, okay?”
I grinned at him, feigning innocence. “What? Me? Never!” I slurred lightly, not bothering to hide the empty bottle of Jack Daniels I’d been nursing.
Sage’s expression was full of concern, his eyes narrowing as he scanned my face. “You sure about that? You don’t have to overdo it.”
I waved him off with a carefree laugh, throwing my arms around him dramatically. “Relax, Sage! It’s just a drink. A little fun, right?”
Sage let out a small sigh but didn’t push me. “Alright, just—be careful.”
Before either of us could say more, Alicia swiped Rachel’s vape from her hand, grinning mischievously. Without a second thought, she bolted off, disappearing into the crowd before Rachel even realized what had happened.
“What the hell, Alicia!” Rachel shouted, spinning around to find her missing vape. “I need that! It’s not funny!”
Rachel fumbled through her bag, her eyes frantic as she tried to find something else. “Where’s her Adderall? Shit,she need her meds. She can’t fucking function without them!”
Alicia’s laughter echoed in the distance, clearly enjoying the chaos she’d just caused. I almost felt bad for Rachel, but not enough to stop drinking. I was already a little tipsy, and that feeling of being carefree? It was too good.
But before Rachel could take off after Alicia, Nathan stepped forward and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close. He whispered something in her ear, his breath hot against her skin, and I watched as Rachel’s frantic energy seemed to drain away, replaced by something... softer. She melted into him like putty in his hands.
“Don’t worry about it,” Nathan muttered low enough for only Rachel to hear. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t let the little things get to you, babe.”
I shifted uncomfortably, rolling my eyes at how easy it was for him to manipulate her. The whole thing felt like a power struggle, one that Rachel never seemed to win. But it wasn’t my place to say anything, was it?
Sage and I exchanged glances, and without another word, we moved past them toward the party. As we pushed through the front door, the loud music hit me instantly. People were scattered everywhere, dancing, talking, laughing—everyone seemed to be in their own little world, and I felt like I was floating above it all.
I tried to act like I belonged, throwing my head back in a carefree laugh. I made my way to the kitchen, ignoring the sharp taste of alcohol still lingering in my mouth as I grabbed another drink.
“Just relax,” I muttered to myself, shrugging off everything else. Tonight was about letting go. Tonight, I wasn’t going to think about anything, not Rachel, not Nathan, not the mess I’d found myself in.
Just the next drink.
After a while of hanging out with Sage in the kitchen, chatting about nothing in particular, I found myself staring at the swirling liquid in my glass, feeling that familiar buzz in my veins. The room was warm, filled with laughter and loud music, but it felt like we were in our own little bubble, talking casually and exchanging pointless observations. Sage was sweet, but there was always this undertone of concern in his voice when he spoke to me.
He caught me staring into my drink and smiled softly. “You good babe?”
I gave him a carefree grin, swishing the drink in my hand. “Yeah, just taking it easy.”
Sage didn’t seem entirely convinced but didn’t press it. We both knew I was far from “taking it easy,” but that was part of the fun, wasn’t it?
The door to the kitchen creaked open, and in walked Rachel, her arm looped around some random guy’s waist, pulling him in with her as she swayed. She gave me a quick, almost mischievous look before turning to Sage.
“Look who I found,” Rachel said, her voice dripping with a mix of triumph and flirtation. “Isn’t his little freckles cute?”
The guy was decent-looking, tall with sandy brown hair and an awkward smile, but he looked about as out of place as someone like Savannah would in this kind of scene. He glanced at me and then at Sage, clearly unsure of how to react to Rachel’s confident entrance.
Sage raised an eyebrow, a half-smile on his lips as he took in the situation. “What about Nathan?” he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of concern.
Rachel shrugged, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a dramatic motion. “Fuck Nate,” she snapped, her voice sharp. “He called me a fucking hooker. I’m over him.”
It was strange to hear her say that, considering how much she practically worshiped Nathan’s attention. But I wasn’t surprised. Nathan had a way of getting under people’s skin, making them question their worth. And Rachel, with her bravado and confidence, was no exception.
Before any of us could react, Nathan stormed into the kitchen, his eyes immediately locking onto Rachel with a look of pure fury. He didn’t even glance at the guy she was with. He just stalked toward him, his fists clenched.
“Get the fuck away from her,” Nathan snarled, his voice low and threatening.
The random guy’s eyes widened as Nathan pushed him roughly, causing him to stumble back. Rachel immediately stepped in front of Nathan, her hands up, trying to calm the situation.
“Chill the fuck out,Nathan! I was just having fun,” she snapped, but Nathan wasn’t having it. He swung at the guy with a hard right hook, knocking him to the floor with a loud thud.
I winced, almost feeling the punch in my own gut. The tension in the room was palpable now, the air thick with the chaos Nathan had just unleashed. I looked at Sage, who was watching with a mix of concern and resignation. He probably knew by now that nothing could really stop Nathan when he was in this kind of mood.
Nathan didn’t even spare the guy another glance. Instead, he grabbed Rachel by the wrist, his grip tight and possessive, pulling her toward him. “You’re coming with me,” he growled, scooping her up effortlessly over his shoulder.
Rachel let out a small squeal of surprise, half-laughing and half-protesting. “What the hell, Nathan?” she giggled, clearly not all that upset, but I could see the playfulness fading. “Put me down!”
“You’re not going anywhere with that loser,” Nathan said through clenched teeth, ignoring her protests as he began walking out of the kitchen, heading toward the stairs.
I stood there for a moment, watching them go. Nathan’s broad shoulders blocked Rachel from my view, and all I could hear was her fading laughter mixed with some teasing, breathless comments. I knew exactly where they were going, and it wasn’t to hang out and talk about their feelings.
Sage, who had stayed silent through the entire thing, finally sighed. “Every time,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple.
“Yeah,” I agreed, rolling my eyes. “Like clockwork.”
We both stood there for a moment, listening to the sounds of the party outside. The music had somehow gotten louder, the energy of the house vibrating through the walls. But now, it felt hollow, almost as if the chaos Nathan and Rachel had left behind had taken the air with them.
Sage glanced at me, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You doing okay?”
I didn’t hesitate, my smile carefree but a little too wide. “Of course,” I said, my voice a little too cheerful. “I’m just here to have fun.”
But even I knew that wasn’t entirely true. I was running from something, from feeling too much, from caring too much. And as the night went on, I knew that whatever happened next, I wouldn’t be facing it alone.
As Nathan and Rachel disappeared upstairs, I felt a strange tension lift from the air, but it didn’t last long. The chaos of the house party was already starting to seep back in, with music pounding and voices growing louder. But the moment felt hollow, and I wasn’t sure why.
I glanced around the kitchen, noticing the random guy still sprawled on the floor, nursing his pride and his bruised ego. I almost stepped over him, but then I saw the half-empty bottle of vodka sitting on the counter. Perfect.
I grabbed it without hesitation, popping the cap and taking a long swig, feeling the burn slide down my throat. It wasn’t the first drink of the night, but something about this one felt more necessary than the others. I didn’t have time to think about it. I just needed to keep going.
Sage, who’d been silent for a while, finally looked over at me with that same concerned, ever-patient look he always had. “Brooke, you really should slow down,” he said softly, his voice calm but filled with the usual caution.
I ignored him, grinning brightly. “I need to start planning my Halloween party for this year,” I said, swaying just slightly as I tilted my head to look at him. “Got any ideas?”
Sage raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying the sudden change in topic. “What if we don’t have one?” he suggested, his voice tentative, but his smile genuine. “We could just do something low-key. Like a movie night. No pressure.”
I gave him a teasing look, twirling the bottle in my hand. “What? And disappoint everyone?” I scoffed, but I wasn’t really joking. There was something about these parties, these expectations, that always seemed to hang over me. Like if I didn’t throw the biggest, most talked-about Halloween bash, I’d somehow fail. “Nah, I think people would expect more from me.”
Sage didn’t press further, though I could see the hesitation in his eyes. His focus shifted slightly, as if he were debating whether or not to try talking me down again. But I wasn’t in the mood to be reasoned with.
I stepped over the random guy on the floor without a second thought, continuing toward the front door. I needed some air. Or, maybe, just more space to keep pretending everything was fine.
Sage followed quietly behind me, saying nothing, but I could feel his concern radiating off him as he opened the door for me. We both stepped out into the cool night air, and I walked to the porch steps, plopping down onto the lower one and pulling my knees up to my chest. The stars above seemed a little more distant tonight, just like everything else.
I rested my head against Sage’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence beside me, but it wasn’t enough to ease the ache gnawing at me. I could feel the vodka already starting to kick in, the buzz beginning to blur my thoughts.
Sage let out a soft breath, his voice quieter than usual as he spoke, trying to gently prod at what was happening inside my head. “Hey… you’re not okay. What’s really going on?”
I closed my eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over me as I took another long drink from the bottle. “I just need this tonight, okay?” My voice was flat, and I hated how weak it sounded. But I wasn’t ready to tell him everything. Not tonight. Not when everything felt like it was unraveling so quickly.
Sage shifted slightly, his hand brushing mine in a reassuring, gentle way. “Brooke, you don’t have to pretend, you know?” He said it so simply, so earnestly, and for a moment, I almost let myself believe it. Almost.
But the thought of letting anyone in felt too dangerous. I was too far gone for that now, too tangled up in all of it—the people, the lies, the alcohol that felt like it was slowly numbing everything I couldn’t control.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, taking another long gulp from the bottle, the burn more familiar now. “I just need a break from… everything.”
Sage didn’t say anything more, but I could feel him watching me. He didn’t push it, didn’t try to fix anything, but I could see the way his jaw tightened as he stayed close, as if somehow, being near me could help.
I wasn’t so sure. But I let him stay there beside me, the soft weight of his presence grounding me in a way the alcohol couldn’t. Still, I didn’t let my guard down. Not yet.
“Hey,” I whispered, glancing up at him through my lashes. “You ever think about just… running away from all of this? No parties. No drama. Just… somewhere else?”
Sage looked at me, his face soft with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. “Yeah. All the time.”
I smiled faintly, the thought of escaping, of just walking away, feeling strangely comforting. But the night wasn’t over. And neither was the storm that was brewing in my chest.
I was still sitting there, the chill of the night air mixing with the warmth of the alcohol coursing through my veins, when something caught my eye. A flash of headlights. I turned my head instinctively, but what I saw made my stomach drop.
Tom’s car was rolling slowly down the street. The sleek black SUV glided past the house, but it wasn’t the car that made my heart stop—it was the person sitting in the passenger seat.
Savannah.
What the hell was she doing with him? Why was she always in my way? I could feel my heart rate quicken, and an uncomfortable knot began to form in my stomach. It wasn’t just the alcohol. No, this was something else. Something much more personal.
“Why does she keep fucking invading my life?” I muttered, my voice filled with a mix of disbelief and anger, as I watched them disappear into the distance.
Sage’s brow furrowed as he looked at me, still seated next to me on the porch. “Hey, what? Woah—what’s going on? You okay?” His concern was immediate, but I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t know how to put into words the rush of jealousy and irritation that flared up inside me. The feeling of being powerless, of not being able to escape her—Savannah, the one who seemed to have everything I couldn’t.
Before I could answer, a wave of nausea hit me out of nowhere. It came crashing over me so quickly, I couldn’t catch my breath. I barely had time to react as my stomach turned, and I doubled over, the alcohol and emotions overwhelming me all at once.
Sage was on his feet in an instant, his hands moving to steady me. “Shit. Brooke, come on.” His voice was frantic, but not in a panicked way—in a worried, protective way I wasn’t used to hearing from him. He quickly helped me to my feet, guiding me toward the door, his arm around my waist to keep me steady as I stumbled.
“I—I don’t feel good,” I whispered, my head spinning. The room seemed to tilt, and before I knew it, I was being helped into the bathroom. I barely registered the sounds of music and voices growing fainter as the door closed behind me.
Sage was already pulling my hair back, his hands gentle but firm as I bent over the toilet. My body heaved, and the world blurred around me. He was speaking to me softly, though I couldn’t make out most of his words—just his steadying presence, his voice low and comforting as he kept my hair out of the way.
“Breathe, Brooke. You’re okay,” he murmured.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of his hand holding my hair back, his fingers warm against my scalp. He stayed close, not saying anything else, just offering quiet support. But it didn’t take long before I heard another voice—sharp, a little breathless, and clearly worried.
“Alicia!” I heard Sage call as the bathroom door swung open, his voice slightly muffled.
I glanced up weakly, seeing Alicia’s face in the doorway. Her gaze softened when she saw me. “Oh, shit. What happened?” she asked, stepping inside with a concerned look.
Sage leaned back for a second, letting Alicia take a step forward. “I guess she saw something,” he said, his voice still carrying a hint of confusion. “She freaked out and… I don’t know. I think it just hit her all at once.”
Alicia’s eyes flicked over to me, her expression shifting from concern to something else—something knowing, like she’d seen this before. She moved closer, rubbing my back with a soothing motion. “Hey, Brooke,” she said softly, her voice carrying a calm, almost maternal tone. “It’s okay, alright? Just breathe.”
I let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the wall as she gently rubbed my back, trying to calm me. Her presence wasn’t exactly comforting in the way Sage’s had been, but it helped ground me for some reason. Maybe it was because I knew, on some level, Alicia could be just as messed up as I was. Maybe it was the way she was always in control, the way she always seemed to have the situation figured out—even if it was always a mess.
Sage stood back, watching for a moment, then exhaled slowly. “I didn’t think she’d react like this,” he said quietly, almost to himself. He glanced at me again, his eyes soft with concern, though I wasn’t sure if it was for me or for whatever the hell had just happened. “I don’t know what to do, Alicia.”
Alicia gave him a small, reassuring smile, like she was used to this. Like she knew how to handle these things. “Just give her a minute,” she said, kneeling down beside me. “She’ll be okay. You just need to keep your distance, let her breathe.”
I closed my eyes, leaning into the bathroom wall, trying to fight back the dizziness. I didn’t want to feel like this, so raw and exposed. I just wanted the night to end, to get away from everything and everyone. But Savannah’s face, sitting in that damn car next to Tom, kept haunting me.
It wasn’t just jealousy, though. It wasn’t just the anger bubbling up inside me. It was a deeper feeling, one I couldn’t put into words, one I didn’t know how to deal with.
And here I was, stuck in a bathroom with Sage, Alicia, and my own mess.
What the hell was I doing?
I barely had time to brace myself before another wave hit. My stomach churned violently, and I felt the bile rise again. I barely managed to turn before I was throwing up once more, my body lurching in all the wrong directions. It wasn’t even the alcohol this time, just a horrible, empty feeling that made it impossible to stop.
Water. It was just water, but it burned. It felt like everything in me was trying to expel every ounce of whatever was left inside. My hands gripped the edge of the toilet, and I heard Sage's calm voice in the background, though it sounded so distant, muffled by the chaos in my head.
“Brooke, come on… just breathe.” His tone was soft but firm, his hand steady as he continued to hold my hair back. His presence was solid behind me, but the feeling in my gut wasn’t.
It wasn’t just the alcohol. It was everything—my body rejecting whatever it was I had put it through lately. I felt weak. Empty. Exhausted.
Suddenly, the room felt too warm. Too thick. I could barely keep my eyes open. I swayed forward, my vision blurring, and before I knew it, everything went black.
When I came to, I felt the ground beneath me shift. I was being lifted, held up by Sage. His voice was quieter now, tinged with concern.
“Brooke, hey, wake up,” Sage said, a gentle pressure on my shoulder. “We need to get you home, alright?”
I blinked, trying to shake off the fog in my head. My limbs felt heavy, like they belonged to someone else, but I nodded. My throat was dry, my mouth sour, and my body felt like it had been hit by a truck. It was like I was waking up from a bad dream.
Sage shifted, supporting me as he walked me out of the bathroom. I could feel his grip on me tighten, his hand steady at my back.
“Alicia,” Sage called out as we walked into the hallway, his voice carrying the familiar note of urgency. “Has she eaten anything at all today?”
Alicia’s sharp voice came from behind us, slightly distant as she replied, “I haven’t seen her eat at all this week,” she said, almost nonchalantly, like it wasn’t the first time this had happened. She wasn’t even looking at me when she spoke, busy rummaging through a bag or some other thing I couldn’t focus on.
Sage’s face dropped, and his hand came to rest on my shoulder, his eyes flashing with concern. “Fuck. That’s not good.”
I swallowed hard, barely processing the words. What wasn’t good? I didn’t have the energy to think, my head spinning too fast. My stomach gave another angry lurch, but I managed to keep it down. The last thing I needed was to pass out in front of everyone like a total mess. But I felt like I was already there.
Alicia sighed, standing up from the table she was at. “She’s been drinking like a fish and not eating. You know she does this when she’s spiraling.”
I shook my head slowly, trying to clear it, but the truth hit me all at once, and it made me want to crawl into a hole and hide.
This wasn’t just a hangover. This wasn’t just me acting reckless for fun. This was more. I knew it. And I hated it. I hated how it felt to need alcohol to feel anything, to numb out everything.
“I’ll take care of her, Alicia. You can stay and have fun, just…” Sage’s voice softened, the concern in it palpable. “I don’t want to leave her alone right now.”
Alicia gave a quick nod, though I saw the glint of frustration in her eyes. I could practically hear her thinking, "Not my problem".
But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything anymore. I felt numb.
“Thanks, Sage,” Alicia said shortly before walking away, disappearing back into the party without another word. Sage, though, stayed close, guiding me outside. The cool air hit my face, making me realize just how much I needed fresh air.
Sage was quiet as he helped me to the car, holding the door open for me as he gently helped me slide into the passenger seat. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, but he didn’t say anything for a long time.
“Just get some sleep when you get home, okay?” he said after a moment, his voice quiet. “We’ll figure this out.”
I nodded, but his words felt distant. Everything felt distant.
The car ride was quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the faint music playing from the radio. I leaned against the window, my head spinning. The cool air from the crack in the window did nothing to ease the weight in my chest. My hands were shaky, and I was struggling to breathe normally, each inhale feeling like too much effort.
“Brooke,” Sage’s voice was low and soft, as if he was testing the waters. “You okay?”
I didn’t answer right away, just clutching my arms tightly around myself. But then, the words slipped out without me even thinking. “Stay with me, Sage. Please.”
I could feel him glance over at me, his eyes softening with concern. “Of course. I’m not leaving you alone right now.”
I didn’t say anything else, but I could feel the tightness in my chest start to loosen. It wasn’t much, but knowing he wasn’t going anywhere made it a little easier to breathe. The rest of the drive passed in silence, and soon enough, we were pulling into my driveway.

Sage helped me out of the car, his arm around my shoulders as we made our way up to the front door. I wasn’t sure what I expected to find inside, but I wasn’t prepared for my mom to be sitting in the living room, her glass of wine resting in her hands as she lazily flipped through a magazine.
She raised an eyebrow when she saw us. “Oh, Sage. You’re back already?” Her tone was sharp, a little too casual for my liking.
Sage, ever the professional at handling awkward situations, smiled and shrugged. “Uh, yeah. She wasn’t feeling too good. Had to bring her home early.”
“Oh, okay,” my mom said, taking another sip of her wine as if nothing was unusual. “She’s always been a bit of a lightweight. Just let her rest, I suppose. Give her some celery or something.”
Her words cut through me like ice. A lightweight. Was that all I was to her? Just a burden to be swept under the rug when things went wrong? But I didn’t have the energy to fight it right now. Instead, I let Sage guide me upstairs to my room.
Sage was gentle, never pushing me, just supporting me with steady hands. He helped me out of my jacket and into the soft, oversized sweater I kept on the back of my door. The familiar scent of it wrapped around me, making me feel a little safer.
“You don’t have to do all this, Sage,” I whispered as he helped me pull off my dress and get into the flannel pants I always wore to bed. “You’re way too nice to me.”
He didn’t answer at first. Instead, he wiped off the makeup I hadn’t even realized was still on my face, carefully removing every trace with a soft wipe. His touch was gentle, as though he was treating me like something fragile. He brushed my hair back from my face, his hands moving with practiced care.
I could feel the weight of everything settling in my chest. The party. The drinks. The constant pressure. I wanted to break down, to scream, to tell Sage everything. But instead, I just let him continue making sure I was taken care of. It was easier that way.
When he finished, he gently tugged the blankets over me and sat down again the bed. I could feel the heat of his body beside me, but I didn’t know what to say.
“Sage…” My voice was barely a whisper, broken and weak. “I don’t deserve you. I’m such a fucking bitch.”
He didn’t respond right away. The words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. But after a long silence, I felt the bed dip beside me as he laid down, his body close but not quite touching.
“You’re not a bitch, Brooke,” he said, his voice soft but firm, like he believed it with all of his heart. “You’re just… going through something. But you’re not alone in it. Not anymore.”
I felt my breath catch in my throat. The words were a lifeline, a comfort I didn’t deserve but was too desperate to push away.
I curled into Sage's chest, his hand resting gently on my back, and I let myself relax into his warmth. It felt safe here, in his presence, even though everything else felt like it was falling apart. He didn’t push for answers or explanations. He just lay there, next to me, until the world quieted enough for me to drift into a restless sleep.

It wasn’t until then that I realized how much I wanted to fucking die.

Chapter 9: Dieting to fit in and dying to feel alive

Summary:

I barely heard their conversation, my mind too loud to process the words. The hum of the lights above me felt deafening, my body still tight with the weight of the thoughts I couldn’t shake. I pressed my palms into my legs, trying to feel something other than the distorted image of myself that kept flashing behind my eyes.
My mom smiled at me, setting down the last plate. "Well, looks like we’re all set. Let’s eat."

Notes:

major body dysmorphia tw for this one!!

The sunlight streamed through my curtains, soft and golden, pulling me from sleep. For once, I didn’t feel the usual heaviness dragging me back down into the mattress. Instead, a flicker of excitement stirred in my chest—a rare, unfamiliar feeling.
I stretched lazily, my mind drifting back to last night. Tom’s laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he actually listened when I talked. It was like a little spark had been lit inside me, one I wasn’t quite ready to let go of.
Sliding out of bed, I padded over to my dresser. I stood there for a moment, staring at the rows of neatly folded clothes. Usually, I’d just grab whatever was clean and comfortable, but today felt different. Today, I wanted to put in the effort—not for anyone else, but for me.
I rifled through the hangers until I landed on a short, flowy dress in a soft lavender color. It wasn’t too fancy, but it hugged my figure just right and had little daisies embroidered along the hem. I paired it with a cozy cardigan in cream and my favorite pair of ankle boots. Cute, simple, but still... me.
Satisfied with my outfit, I laid it on the bed and headed to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I studied my reflection. My hair was a mess, and there were faint pillow lines still pressed into my cheek. I sighed, but instead of the usual frustration, I felt determination.
I washed my face and took extra care with my skincare routine, massaging in moisturizer until my skin felt soft and refreshed. Then I reached for my makeup bag. Normally, I kept things minimal—mascara, a little concealer—but today I wanted to try something more.
I started with a light foundation, blending it out until my skin looked smooth and even. I added a touch of blush to my cheeks, just enough to give me that healthy, rosy glow, and brushed a warm, neutral eyeshadow across my lids. A flick of eyeliner, a coat of mascara, and a swipe of soft pink lip gloss completed the look. It wasn’t anything over the top, but it made me feel polished, confident.
For my hair, I opted for soft waves, letting them cascade over my shoulders in an effortless way that had taken me nearly twenty minutes to achieve. I secured a small section back with a pearl-studded clip, the finishing touch to pull everything together.
Stepping back to look in the mirror, I almost didn’t recognize myself. Not because I looked drastically different, but because of how I felt. For the first time in what felt like forever, I liked what I saw.
Grabbing my phone, I slipped it into the pocket of my cardigan and took a deep breath. Today was going to be a good day. I was going to make sure of it.
I slipped on my boots and grabbed my bag, feeling a little flutter of nerves as I made my way downstairs. The warm smell of coffee greeted me as I entered the kitchen, where my mom was standing at the counter in her bathrobe, pouring herself a cup. She glanced up, eyebrows arching in surprise.
“Well, look who’s up early,” she said with a teasing smile. “You’re usually dragging yourself down here five minutes before we need to leave.”
I hesitated in the doorway, shifting my bag on my shoulder. “Yeah, I guess I just, uh, slept well last night.” The lie tasted strange on my tongue, but I didn’t want her asking too many questions. “I’m ready to head out, though.”
My mom set her mug down and gave me a once-over, her smile softening. “You’re all dressed up today. What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, tugging at the hem of my cardigan. “I just felt like... you know, trying a little harder.”
She gave me a curious look but didn’t press. Instead, she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, you’re up so early, I haven’t even started breakfast yet. Want to wait a few minutes? I’ll whip something up real quick.”
My stomach twisted uncomfortably, and I felt my pulse quicken. I couldn’t explain it, but the thought of sitting there and eating with her, the food heavy on my plate, made my chest feel tight. I swallowed hard, forcing a smile.
“Oh, uh, that’s okay,” I said, trying to sound breezy. “I’ll just grab something with Genevieve and Lina before school.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, her mug halfway to her lips. “Are you sure? You’ve been looking a little thin lately, sweetheart.”
The comment hit me like a jolt, my heart pounding in my ears. I laughed nervously, waving her off. “I’m fine, Mom, really. Besides, Lina always drags us to that bakery near school. You know how she is about her pastries.”
She didn’t look entirely convinced, but after a moment, she sighed and took a sip of her coffee. “All right, if you’re sure. But don’t make it a habit, okay? Breakfast is important.”
I tugged at my cardigan again, the fabric suddenly feeling too snug against my shoulders as my mom’s gaze lingered on me. My mind raced for an excuse to avoid sitting down for breakfast. Then, an idea struck me.
“Actually, um, can I walk to school today?” I asked, forcing my tone to stay casual.
My mom raised an eyebrow, setting her coffee mug on the counter. “Walk? Since when do you want to walk anywhere, especially this early?”
I shrugged, my fingers gripping the strap of my bag tighter. “Well, Genevieve texted me last night. She wanted to walk, you know, to get some fresh air or whatever. And she lives kind of on the way to school, so I thought we could meet halfway and go together.” I tried to sound breezy, but my heart thudded as I spoke, waiting for her reaction.
Her expression shifted into something softer, but there was still a hint of skepticism in her eyes. “You two have been getting really close lately, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly, nodding. “She’s been... really great.” That part wasn’t a lie.
She studied me for another moment before sighing and waving her hand dismissively. “Fine, but keep your phone on you, okay? And don’t be late.”
“Of course,” I said, already stepping toward the door, relief flooding through me.
“Oh, and Savannah?”
I paused, my hand hovering over the doorknob.
“Make sure you grab something at school if you don’t eat with Genevieve. You can’t just skip meals, okay?” Her voice was warm but firm, the kind of tone that made me feel both cared for and slightly suffocated.
“I won’t, Mom. Promise,” I said, throwing her a quick smile that I hoped looked convincing before stepping outside.
The crisp air hit me instantly, and I took a deep breath, letting it wash over me. My legs itched to move, and without another moment’s hesitation, I set off down the sidewalk, walking briskly.
The lie gnawed at me as I moved, but I pushed it aside, focusing instead on the rhythm of my steps. The burn in my calves felt good, almost satisfying, and I let it distract me from the anxiety swirling in my chest.
I didn’t have to meet Genevieve halfway, of course. She hadn’t asked to walk. But as I continued toward school, I decided that I’d figure out something to say if she asked about it. For now, I just wanted to keep moving.
The walk to school gave me too much time to think, my mind bouncing between memories of last night and the gnawing feeling of guilt from lying to my mom. But as I neared the school, the sound of students already milling around the courtyard broke me out of my thoughts.
The building loomed ahead, bathed in the soft morning light, and I quickened my pace, eager to avoid the usual stares I imagined people giving me. The parking lot wasn’t as full as it would be in another half hour, and I figured I had a little time before Genevieve and Lina got here.
I made my way toward the front steps, trying to keep my head down when I heard someone call my name.
“Savannah!”
The voice was familiar, and when I glanced up, my stomach did a strange little flip. There he was—Tom Dawson—leaning casually against his car with Nathan beside him.
Tom looked exactly how I remembered him from last night: effortlessly cool in a gray hoodie layered under a leather jacket, his hair slightly messy but in a way that felt intentional. Nathan, of course, was his usual self, leaning against the car like he owned the place, though his smirk didn’t reach his eyes.
For a second, I hesitated. Nathan made me nervous,but Tom was already motioning for me to come over.
“Hey!” Tom greeted me as I approached, his smile easy and warm. “Didn’t think I’d see you here so early.”
I shrugged, trying to look casual, even as my cheeks burned under his gaze. “Decided to walk today,” I said, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt.
Nathan raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “What, no chauffeur to drop you off?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Tom cut in before I could. “Ignore him,” he said, rolling his eyes. “He’s just mad because he forgot to do his math homework and has to beg Rachel to let him copy hers later.”
Nathan scoffed. “Like she’s got the brains to pull that off.”
The way he said it made my stomach churn, but Tom just shook his head, clearly used to Nathan’s comments.
“Anyway,” Tom said, turning his attention back to me, “how’d you sleep? Still recovering from your wild night out at the park?”
I laughed softly, the tension easing just a little. “Barely. I think the swings really wore me out.”
Tom grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, they’re brutal like that.”
“You get used to them,” he said, pushing his hands into his pockets. “So, you got plans for this morning, or are you free for a quick coffee run before class?”
The question caught me off guard, and for a second, I didn’t know how to respond.
Tom’s smile faltered for a split second as Nathan stepped closer, leaning against the hood of the car with a smirk that immediately made me uneasy.
“Yo, you’re gonna let your girl walk around in a dress that short?” Nathan said, his voice dripping with mockery. His eyes flicked over me, lingering just a moment too long.
My stomach tightened, and I felt my cheeks flush, though whether from embarrassment or anger, I couldn’t tell. “I—”
Tom stepped in, his easygoing demeanor replaced by something colder. “Chill out, Nathan. Seriously.”
Nathan shrugged, not even slightly phased. “Not my fault, man. I’m just saying. She’s gonna turn heads dressed like that. Most guys can’t help but look.”
My fists clenched at my sides, my confidence from this morning suddenly evaporating under the weight of his gaze. Nathan’s smirk widened, like he knew exactly what kind of reaction he was provoking.
“Enough, Nathan,” Tom said, his voice firm now. He pushed off the car and took a step closer to me, his shoulder slightly in front of mine, a subtle barrier. “She’s not here for your commentary.”
Nathan raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing. “Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a twist. I was just messing around.”
Tom didn’t say anything, but the tension between them was thick. Nathan gave me one last lingering look before his phone buzzed, cutting through the silence. “Guess that’s my cue,” he muttered, glancing at the screen before shoving his phone into his pocket.
He took a step back, his smirk still firmly in place. “See you around, Savannah,” he said over his shoulder as he walked off toward the school.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, my pulse still racing.
“Sorry about him,” Tom said softly, turning to face me again. His brows furrowed, and for the first time, I saw something that looked like guilt in his eyes. “He’s a jerk, but he doesn’t mean anything by it.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak yet.
Tom hesitated, then added, “For what it’s worth, I think you look great.” His voice was quieter now, almost tentative, and when I glanced up at him, his expression had softened again.
The warmth in his tone soothed the sting of Nathan’s words, and I felt a small smile tug at my lips. “Thanks,” I said quietly.
“Want me to walk you inside?” Tom offered, gesturing toward the school.
I hesitated, glancing toward the front entrance. Part of me wanted to keep the independence I’d been feeling this morning, but another part—the part that still felt a little shaken from Nathan’s comments—was tempted to say yes.
“Okay,” I said after a moment, shrugging like it was no big deal. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Tom grinned, pushing off the car and falling into step beside me. “I don’t mind at all. Gives me an excuse to hang out with you a little longer.”
I glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Smooth.”
“Hey, I try.” He shot me a playful wink, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
As we neared the front steps, Tom lowered his voice. “Let’s avoid the north hall today. Word is Brooke had a rough night, so she’s in one of her moods.”
I raised an eyebrow, curious despite myself. “What kind of ‘rough night’ are we talking about?”
Tom shrugged, but his expression was serious. “I don’t know the details, just that Sage had to take her home early. Sounds like things got... messy.”
The thought of Brooke spiraling filled me with a mix of emotions. Part of me felt bad for her; whatever had happened must have been bad. But another part—the part still nursing the wounds she’d inflicted on me—felt a flicker of satisfaction.
“Good to know,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.
Tom led me past the main doors, steering us toward the South hall entrance instead. The farther we walked from the crowd gathering near the north entrance, the quieter the halls became.
I leaned back against the lockers beside him, glancing down the empty hallway. It was a little odd being here, where I didn’t usually go, but I had to admit—it was kind of nice. Quieter.
I didn’t move away, and as I stood there, Tom shifted closer, his arm sliding around my shoulders, a casual yet comfortable gesture. I tensed for a moment but quickly relaxed into it. His warmth felt oddly reassuring.
He pointed toward the locker directly in front of us, a massive dent on the side, and chuckled. “That’s my handiwork,” he said, his voice light. “Freshman year, I pushed Sage right into that thing during a stupid argument. Didn’t think it’d make such an impression... but here we are.”
I laughed softly, glancing at the dent, a little surprised by the idea of Tom being that reckless. "You pushed him into it? Sounds like you two didn’t exactly start off as friends."
Tom shrugged, his grin widening as he leaned against the locker. "Yeah, we’ve had our... disagreements. But that’s Sage for you. Always ready to argue about everything." He leaned in a little, dropping his voice in a mock-serious tone. "I still give him shit for it. Like, come on, how do you let yourself get shoved into a locker like that?"
I grinned, enjoying the lightheartedness in his voice. “Sounds like a fight waiting to happen,” I teased.
He let out a quiet laugh. "Well, it's not like we’re best friends because we agree on everything. I mean, hell, the guy doesn’t know how to chill out. But I’m aware of the drama you’re in with all that Brooke and Rachel crap.” His tone was more serious now, his arm tightening around me a little as if to emphasize his point. “You don’t deserve that. No one does.”
I looked at him, surprised by the bluntness of his words. "You know about all that?" I asked softly.
Tom nodded. "Yeah. Sage’s not the kind of guy to talk much about stuff like that, but he doesn't exactly hide how bad it gets with her and Rachel." He paused, glancing at me. “You really think that’s all worth it?”
I felt my stomach tighten at the mention of Brooke and Rachel. There was something about Tom’s straightforwardness that made me feel more vulnerable than I expected. “It’s complicated," I muttered, half shrugging. "I’m trying to figure it out, but it's just... a lot."
Tom gave me a reassuring smile, his expression softening. "I get it. You don’t have to deal with all that shit alone, though. If you need someone to talk to or, you know, distract you from it all, I’m here." His tone had that mix of confidence and care that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.
But then, out of nowhere, Sage popped into view. He was leaning against the locker a few feet away, his arms casually crossed as he gave us a smile.
"Hey," he greeted us, voice low but friendly. "Just a heads-up for you two." He gestured toward the hallway behind him, his tone casual but purposeful. “Brooke’s first period is in this hall. I know she’s had a pretty rough morning, so maybe clear out before she flips out. She’s not feeling great today.”
Tom gave Sage a sideways glance, the kind of look that suggested he wasn’t too worried. "She always seems to be in a mood," he muttered with a little grin, but I could see the concern behind his eyes. He was always more protective than he let on.
Sage just shrugged, a little smile playing on his lips. “I’m just trying to help you avoid a confrontation. No need to let her get under your skin.”
I nodded, appreciating Sage’s warning. It was kind of him to give us the heads-up, especially since I had no idea what Brooke might do if she saw me with Tom in the hallway. As much as I hated to admit it, Brooke’s unpredictability was part of the reason I was anxious all the time.
"I appreciate it," I said, glancing at Tom. "Guess we’ll take our chances somewhere else."
Sage’s eyes flicked between us, his relaxed demeanor never faltering. "No problem. Just look out for her. You know she’s got a short fuse when things aren’t going her way."
Tom nodded thoughtfully, his arm loosening from around my shoulders as he stepped back. “We’ll take a detour. Thanks for the heads-up.”
As Sage walked away, I felt a sudden wave of gratitude for him. He wasn’t the type to make things more dramatic than they had to be. He was just... easygoing, a good guy who looked out for everyone, even when he didn’t have to. And even though I didn’t know him as well as Tom, I felt like I could trust him.
"I swear, Sage is the only one who doesn’t freak out about things," I said softly to Tom, mostly to myself.
Tom smiled. “Yeah, he’s good at keeping things on the DL. I don’t think he gets enough credit for it.”
We both stood there for a second, kind of caught in the silence between us, before Tom gave me a little nudge. “Well, guess we better get moving before Brooke shows up. No need to test her mood.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, feeling a little lighter as I adjusted the strap of my bag. "Sounds good to me."
We walked off toward the other side of the hall, away from Brooke’s impending storm, but I couldn’t help but feel a little more secure knowing I had Tom—and even Sage—watching my back.
I was just about to check the time on my phone when it buzzed in my hand. I glanced down to see a flood of texts from both Ginny and Lina, popping up one after another.

Ginny:
Where are you?? We’re waiting for you at the usual spot
Hello???
Ok srsly answer me...
Lina:
Sav where the fuck are you? You’re not at your locker
Is everything okay?

I laughed quietly under my breath, knowing exactly what they were going to think. My fingers quickly typed out my response.

I'm with Tom rn,sorry
Before I could even hit send, my phone buzzed again—this time from Ginny.

Ginny:
HOLY SHIT YOU’RE WITH TOM??
Why didn’t you tell us??
Is this a date???
wait did it go back last night
tell me everything
SAVANNAH

I rolled my eyes, smiling at how much I knew Ginny would freak out over this.

omfg chill out,ill tell u later

I hit send and immediately saw their bubbles pop up again, followed by a slew of emojis from Ginny and some skeptical responses from Lina.

Lina:
girl bye,gins about to explode

I grinned to myself, slipping the phone back into my pocket just as Tom nudged me to get moving.
“Everything okay?” he asked, glancing at me with his usual relaxed smile, but his eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“Yeah,” I replied, glancing back down the hall. “Just my friends freaking out. You know how they are.”
Tom chuckled softly, guiding me toward the North Hall with a gentle hand resting on mine, keeping me from bumping into anyone as we weaved through the crowd of students in the corridor. His hand was warm, and it sent a small jolt through me.
“Guess they didn’t expect you to be with me this early in the morning,” he teased, his voice light.
I raised an eyebrow, feeling a little self-conscious. “I wasn’t planning on it either, but... here we are.”
Tom gave me a knowing grin, clearly enjoying the moment. “Yeah, well, you’re full of surprises, Sav.”
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, but I didn’t mind it so much. There was something about him, something easy and natural that made me feel a little more confident than I had before.
As we approached my locker, he slowed down, giving me an extra squeeze on the hand before letting go.
“Okay, I’ll let you get to class,” he said, nodding toward my locker. “But hey, if you ever need a break from the chaos, you know where to find me.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. He really wasn’t all that different from the guy I’d seen last night—the one who’d made me laugh and feel like things were easier than they seemed.
“Thanks, Tom,” I said, feeling a little lighter. “I’ll see you later.”
He winked at me and turned to walk away, leaving me standing in front of my locker with the faintest flutter of excitement in my chest.
I finally got to my locker, finding Lina and Ginny already standing there, looking at me expectantly. As soon as they spotted me, Ginny’s face lit up like I had just told her I’d won the lottery.
“Oh my God, tell me everything!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her feet. “How was it? Was it cute? Did you two kiss? Was it a date?”
Lina, though quieter, had her phone in hand, already texting someone, but her eyes were on me, waiting for my response. I felt a little overwhelmed but tried to answer as calmly as I could.
“It was, uh, good,” I started, trying to keep it casual. “We just—y’know, hung out, talked, got to know each other more. Nothing crazy.” I didn’t want to give away everything, and honestly, I didn’t think I could keep up with the flood of questions from Ginny.
“C’mon, you can’t leave me hanging like that!” Ginny insisted, practically bouncing with excitement. “Was he like… charming? Did he look even better in person?” Her grin was wide, too wide for the early morning.
Before I could answer, I saw someone across the hall. Someone who stood out even in the middle of all the chaos of the hallway.
Brooke.
She was leaning against a locker, looking like she’d been dragged through hell and barely made it out alive. The oversized pink Juicy Couture tracksuit she wore hung loosely on her frame, the fabric rumpled and stretched in all the wrong places. It clung to her shoulders like a weight she could barely carry, more pajamas than fashion statement. Her Ugg boots—salt-stained and worn down at the heels—seemed wildly out of place for the season, like she’d just given up caring.
But it wasn’t just the outfit.
Her skin, usually glowing with the kind of flawless complexion only expensive skincare could buy, was pale and blotchy. Tired. The bags under her eyes were deep shadows, dark smudges that made her look older than she was. Her lips were dry and chapped, pressed into a flat, emotionless line. Even her hair—a signature part of her effortless beauty—was thrown up into a limp, haphazard bun, with strands poking out in chaotic directions like she hadn’t glanced at a mirror in days.
And then there was her expression—or rather, the lack of one. Brooke’s face was vacant, her gaze fixed on the floor as though the world around her didn’t matter anymore.
Alicia was stationed at her side, her smile too wide, her laugh too loud, like she was overcompensating for Brooke’s silence. She kept gesturing animatedly, cracking jokes and tossing out comments, but her nervous glances around the hallway gave her away.
Rachel stood on Brooke’s other side, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her posture was tense, protective even, as she hovered close to Brooke. But her eyes—sharp, watchful—were locked on Nathan, who was draped over Rachel’s shoulder like an annoying little brother who didn’t know when to quit.
“Dude,Brooke,you're fine,” Nathan was saying, his tone dismissive as he cracked a smug grin. “Right, Rach?”
Brooke didn’t respond.
Rachel’s lips twitched like she was about to snap, but she didn’t. Instead, she reached out, resting a hand lightly on Brooke’s arm. “Come on,” she murmured, barely audible over the hum of the hallway. “Let’s sit down or something, okay?”
Nathan laughed, loud and grating. “She doesn’t need to sit down. She’s not a toddler. Chill out, Rach.”
“Shut up, Nathan,” Rachel hissed through clenched teeth, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
From where I stood at the other end of the hallway, I couldn’t look away. Brooke had always been the picture of control, the queen bee who ruled with a perfect manicure and a perfectly calculated smile. But now? She looked like she was barely holding it together.
“Sav, hello?” Ginny’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, tearing my gaze away from the scene. “What were you saying?”
Ginny sighed, clearly annoyed. “I was asking if you think Tom would drive us to that diner after school. I need pancakes like… yesterday.”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing,” I lied, but my gaze betrayed me, flickering back to Brooke.
Lina followed my line of sight, her brows knitting together. “What’s her deal?”
“She looks like shit,” Ginny said bluntly, tossing her curls over her shoulder.
Lina didn’t laugh. Instead, her tone was low, uncertain. “I don’t know. She doesn’t look… okay.”
I nodded, though I didn’t say it out loud: She’s not okay. Not even close.
Ginny leaned in, her voice low but buzzing with barely contained energy. “So, you know about Evan Carmichael’s party last night?”
I raised an eyebrow, already dreading where this was going. “ What about it?”
“Well,” Ginny started, dragging out the word like it was a string of taffy, “Brooke and her whole crew showed up, obviously, and let’s just say… it didn’t exactly go great for them.”
I exchanged a glance with Lina, who looked as skeptical as I felt. “What happened?” I asked, even though part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Ginny’s grin widened, a cat with a canary in her mouth. “Okay, so first of all, Rachel spent the entire night flirting with some junior on the football team. Like, all over him, right in front of Nathan. And when Nathan saw it—bam! He went off the rails. Punched the guy square in the face in the middle of the living room.”
“Of course he did,” Lina muttered, rolling her eyes.
“And it gets better,” Ginny said, her voice rising slightly in excitement. “Alicia, meanwhile, was just dancing all over the place like she owned it, knocking into people left and right. She was trying to hype everyone up, but instead, she managed to knock over this huge antique vase in the corner. Like, totally smashed it. I heard Evan was ready to throw her out on the spot.”
“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “So Nathan’s fighting, Alicia’s breaking priceless stuff, and Rachel’s just… what? Watching it all happen?”
“Oh, no. She disappeared with Nathan after the fight, like immediately after,” Ginny said, smirking. “But Brooke? She didn’t even seem to notice. She was too busy downing tequila shots with Sage.”
That caught my attention. “Sage was there?”
“Yeah,” Ginny said, shrugging. “I guess they were hanging out together most of the night. But here’s the kicker—Brooke got so wasted that she started puking everywhere. Like, everywhere. Sage had to carry her out of the house because she couldn’t even stand.”
I blinked, trying to process it all. “Sage… carried her out?”
“Uh-huh,” Ginny said, nodding vigorously. “And took her home, apparently. Which is wild, right? Like, what’s even going on between them?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, glancing at Brooke again. She was still leaning against the locker like she was trying to melt into it, her expression distant and hollow. Whatever had happened last night, it was written all over her face.
“She looks awful,” Lina said quietly, following my gaze.
Ginny snorted. “Good. Maybe she’ll think twice before acting like she’s better than everyone else.”
I didn’t respond. Part of me agreed—Brooke had done plenty to deserve a dose of karma—but watching her now, pale and unsteady, it was hard to feel anything but uneasy.
“Let’s just get to class,” I said finally, adjusting the strap of my bag.
Lina and I made our way toward class, the hum of the hallway wrapping around us like static. It was the usual morning rush—students darting between classrooms, locker doors slamming, snippets of half-conversations swirling in the air. But something felt… different.
For once, the sharp laughter and muttered insults weren’t directed at us. No whispers of “cow” or “fake” followed me, no sneers curled at the corners of anyone’s lips when they glanced in our direction.
Instead, heads turned as we passed, but not in the usual way. A few people even nodded or offered small smiles. One guy—someone I vaguely recognized from my biology class—actually waved.
I blinked, glancing at Lina to see if she’d noticed.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Lina muttered, her brows furrowing. She clutched the strap of her bag a little tighter, her posture stiffening as if she were bracing for the usual onslaught.
“I… I have no idea,” I admitted, feeling just as disoriented.
Near the corner, a group of cheerleaders stood by the water fountain, their glossy ponytails swinging in unison as they laughed about something. One of them—Melanie, I thought—caught my eye and waved.
“Savannah,” she said, her tone surprisingly friendly, “cute dress!”
I stared at her for a moment, completely thrown off. “Uh… thanks?”
Lina shot me a look, her expression caught somewhere between suspicion and disbelief.
As we continued down the hallway, I couldn’t help but notice how the energy around us had shifted. Usually, I’d feel the weight of people’s stares like tiny needles against my skin, their judgment cutting deep enough to leave scars. But today?
Today, it was like the tide had turned.
Lina leaned closer as we walked, her voice low and sharp. “Okay, seriously, what is this? Did we wake up in some kind of alternate reality?”
I shook my head, just as confused as she was. “No idea. Maybe…” I hesitated, the thought forming slowly. “Maybe it’s because of Brooke and her group? After what happened at that party, people might be…”
“Turning on them?” Lina finished for me, her tone heavy with doubt. “I mean, yeah, it was a disaster, but that’s not usually enough to shift the whole social hierarchy overnight.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I’ll take it.”
Lina didn’t respond right away, her gaze scanning the hallway like she was looking for the catch. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, more cautious. “It’s weird, though. I don’t trust it.”
“Neither do I,” I said, because she was right. This wasn’t normal. The same people who’d spent months tearing us down didn’t just wake up one day and decide to be nice.
Still, as we reached the door to our classroom, a small part of me couldn’t help but feel lighter. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of other people’s opinions wasn’t pressing down on me, suffocating every step.
I glanced at Lina, who was still frowning slightly, her thoughts clearly racing. “Come on,” I said, nudging her gently. “Let’s just get through class. Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out later.”
She gave me a reluctant nod, and we slipped inside the classroom, the mystery of the morning lingering like a shadow at our backs.
As Lina and I stepped into the classroom, we were met with the usual buzz of voices, the sound of pages turning, and the shuffle of backpacks. But today, it felt like there was something just a little bit off in the air.
I took a seat next to Lina, but my eyes drifted over to the usual group of people who always hovered around Rachel. Usually, they were glued to her side—her loyal followers, always there to feed into whatever drama or trouble she stirred up. But today, they weren’t there. It was just Rachel. And she was sitting there, on her own, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world.
A flicker of confusion hit me as I watched her. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe she was just as out of place without her entourage as I used to feel without mine. But I couldn’t help but stare. After everything, she had been one of the most vocal about the whole "weight" thing, and now? Now, it felt like the tables were starting to turn.
Of course, Rachel noticed. She always did.
I wasn’t sure if it was the way my gaze lingered a little too long or the way my mind was spinning with questions, but she snapped before I could even process the thought.
“Y’know, staring doesn’t help you lose calories, Savannah,” she said, her voice sharp and cutting.
I froze. What?
It was the first time in what felt like a century that someone had said anything about my weight. It hadn’t been mentioned in days—maybe even weeks. I’d gotten used to it being part of the background noise of my life, part of the constant self-conscious hum in my brain. But hearing it, hearing her say it… it knocked the breath out of me for a second.
I glanced down at my dress. The fabric felt too tight around my stomach, the way it stretched awkwardly over my torso. I noticed it for the first time—the way my body had changed recently. My torso seemed longer than normal, like I was stretching up, and my legs felt too short, too stocky in comparison. The worst part, though? My stomach. It pushed against the fabric, poking out a little, almost like it was begging to be noticed.
I swallowed hard.
I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to see. But my eyes kept drifting to the small mirror on the side of the room.
I saw myself, and for a moment, everything seemed distorted. My body didn’t look like mine. It felt… wrong. I could feel my heart race, a flush creeping up my neck. The reflection wasn’t just a reflection of my body—it was everything I had feared would happen.
I quickly took a deep breath and sucked in my stomach, feeling the uncomfortable tightness in my chest as I did. I forced my gaze back to the front of the class, trying to ignore the mirror, trying to ignore the image in my mind.
But Lina, of course, wasn’t going to let it go.
I heard her voice from beside me, low but pointed. “Yeah, and hooking up with Nathan on random people’s beds doesn’t lose calories either.”
The words were sharp, like a knife she’d thrown with practiced precision.
I couldn’t help but glance at her, surprised by the sudden heat in her tone. She was still staring straight ahead, her eyes narrowed, but the satisfaction in her voice was unmistakable.
Rachel’s head whipped toward Lina, her expression twisting into a sneer. But before she could retort, I leaned closer to Lina, trying to stay calm despite the sudden rush of tension in the room.
“Thanks,” I whispered, my voice quieter than I intended.
Lina just nodded, her jaw set, but she didn’t say anything else.
I was grateful for her. Grateful that she saw it, too—the way they were trying to tear us apart. But in the same breath, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Rachel’s words had hit harder than they should’ve. That stare, that judgment—it lingered.
The bell rang, cutting through the heavy silence. I took a steadying breath, pushing the anxiety back down into the pit of my stomach. There was nothing I could do now. I just had to get through the day.
Mrs. Pendleton wrapped up her lecture, and the class seemed to exhale in unison as everyone started pulling out books or laptops, settling in for the work ahead. I tried to focus on the task in front of me, but Rachel’s words still echoed in my mind.
“Staring doesn’t help with calories, Savannah.”
I hadn’t realized how much those words had affected me until now. The sting of her taunt kept creeping into my thoughts.
Before I could shake it off, Rachel was at our desk again. This time, she had Makanzleigh with her—a tall, platinum blonde girl whose name was as irritatingly complicated as her presence in our school. Makanzleigh had always followed Rachel around like a puppy, eager to latch onto whatever “trend” Rachel was following.
“Hey, Savannah,” Rachel began, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, “Do you think Tom ever gets jealous of Angelina?” She emphasized Lina’s full name with a smug smile, clearly enjoying the discomfort she was causing.
Lina’s expression shifted, her jaw tightening, but she didn’t respond right away. Rachel’s words lingered in the air, like they were meant to sting.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Lina asked, her voice sharp but controlled.
Rachel just grinned. “Oh, come on, don’t play dumb.” Her voice was sweet but edged with malice. “You two are together all the time, right? It must make Tom uncomfortable, don’t you think? I mean, considering… well, you’re not exactly playing for the right team, are you?”
Lina’s face flushed with anger, her eyes flashing with disbelief. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Makanzleigh stepped forward, her lips curling into a sneer. “I don’t know how you do it, really. I mean, I can’t even change in the locker room with you around. It’s like I can feel your... lesbo eyes on me when I’m stripping down.” Her voice was thick with disdain, and she didn’t even bother to mask her homophobia.
My heart sank as I glanced between them. It was as if the whole world had suddenly shrunk into a tight, suffocating space, and I was caught in it, unable to escape.
Lina’s expression hardened, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “You’re unbelievable,” she hissed, her voice shaking with barely contained rage. “You’re both disgusting.”
Rachel’s smile widened, and there was a sense of triumph in her eyes. “Relax, Lina,” she said, the words sweet but mocking. “I’m just trying to make conversation. You know, since you’re so... different.”
Lina took a deep breath, forcing herself to hold back the anger threatening to spill over. But she wasn’t finished yet. “You’re so fucking pathetic,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “Maybe you should stop worrying about me and start looking at the shit you’re doing behind closed doors. Listen, I know you’re a slut,rachel, but you could be better at hiding it, it’s a little embarrassing,”
For a moment, there was a silence, broken only by the soft shuffle of paper and the distant murmur of other students. Rachel’s smile faltered, just for a split second, before she threw one last taunt over her shoulder.
“Whatever, I don’t have time to waste on you losers.” She spun on her heel and stalked back to her seat, Makanzleigh trailing behind her like a shadow, still looking us over with a sneer.
I sat there for a moment, my heart still pounding in my chest. I wanted to say something, do something, but I was frozen in place. Lina’s words were still burning in my mind, though—about how we couldn’t keep letting them get away with this. How we couldn’t just sit back and let them continue to tear us down.
But for now, we were stuck. Stuck in this room. Stuck in this fight. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were only going to get worse.
The silence stretched on for a few beats, hanging thick in the air after Rachel and Makanzleigh’s departure. The room had almost gone back to normal, but it felt like something had shifted—like the weight of their words was still sitting on my chest, heavy and uncomfortable.
I glanced at Lina, her back straight, her hands still clenched into fists at her sides. She was trying to keep her cool, but I could tell she was still boiling underneath. I couldn’t blame her. It felt like every word they threw at us was a hit that left a bruise, even if it didn’t always show.
Finally, I broke the silence. “Hey, um…” My voice sounded too loud in the quiet classroom. “Are you, like—gay?”
Lina blinked, turning to me slowly, her brows furrowing slightly as she processed the question. I couldn’t help but feel a little stupid for asking it. I hadn’t meant for it to sound like some awkward, probing thing, but it did. The moment I said it, I regretted it.
Lina let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “Savannah, I’m in three AP classes,” she said, her voice flat but laced with irritation. “Do you honestly think I have time for a relationship with anyone—boy or girl?”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I wasn’t sure why I thought it was even a question—of course she didn’t have time for a relationship. But there was something in the way she said it that made me feel like an idiot. Like I was prying too much, asking the wrong things.
“I mean, I get it,” I said quickly, trying to backpedal, but it felt too late. “Just wondering.”
Lina turned back to her desk, the tension melting off her shoulders as she grabbed her notebook. “You’re good, Sav,” she muttered. “Just… don’t ask me dumb shit like that, okay?”
I nodded, feeling a flush creep up my neck. I wasn’t sure what I expected from that conversation, but it wasn’t that. And for a split second, I could’ve sworn I saw the smallest flicker of a smile tug at the corner of Lina’s mouth, like she was trying not to laugh at how awkward I was being.
I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or embarrassed, so I just stayed quiet, focusing on my notebook and trying to push away the nagging feeling that I had somehow made things worse.
The bell rang, and I packed up my stuff, heading out the door when I overheard Rachel and Makanzleigh talking near the hall.
“Did you see Savannah today?” Rachel’s voice was dripping with fake sweetness. “She looks... I don’t know, inflated or something. All that junk food must be doing wonders.”
Makanzleigh snickered. “She’s seriously gonna need a bigger dress size.”
I tried to tune them out, but it was hard not to hear. I could feel my stomach twist, but I didn’t give them the satisfaction of reacting. I just kept my head down and made my way to History.
I found Sage sitting at our usual spot, right by the window. His head was down on the desk, his eyes closed, but his posture was slouched. He looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep.
“Hey,” I greeted, sliding into my seat next to him. "You okay?"
He lifted his head, blinking a little like he was just waking up. For a second, he didn’t say anything. “Yeah... yeah, I’m good. You probably already heard about it.”
I raised an eyebrow, a little confused. “Heard about what?”
He exhaled, a little laugh escaping his lips, but it was dry. “I mean, you know. The whole Brooke and her lot thing. They’re a lot.”
His words were casual, but I could see the frustration in his eyes. He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the exhaustion.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep the conversation light. “They definitely know how to make an entrance.”
Sage leaned back in his chair, his hands running through his messy hair. “It’s more than just them. It’s... I don’t know. It’s everything. Like, I’m just... I’m always the one who’s gotta pick up the pieces. I don’t mind it, not really, but I don’t think anyone really gets how much it all adds up.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his words coming out slower now, like he was trying to make sense of what he was saying. “I’m always the one cleaning up, you know? Like with Brooke... and Nathan. I’m always the one who has to make sure everything’s okay. It’s like, nobody else has to do it. I just... I just end up doing it.”
I nodded, trying to let him talk, but I could tell he was struggling to put it all into words.
“I mean,” he continued, his voice quieter, “I take care of Brooke when she’s being stupid, or Nathan when he’s... well, Nathan. I do it because if I don’t, who will? Nobody else cares enough to step up. But it’s exhausting. It’s like I’m... I’m just that guy. The one who takes care of everyone else, but never the one who gets taken care of.”
Sage leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “And it’s not like my parents care. They don’t expect anything from me. I just live here, you know? They’re fine with me just... hanging around, not doing anything with my life. They don’t push me to do more. They don’t care if I’m wasting my time. Hell, they don’t even notice if I’m doing anything at all.”
I watched him for a moment, his shoulders slumping under the weight of it all. He was usually the guy who made everyone laugh or took charge when things got tough, but right now, I could see the cracks starting to show.
“I don’t get it,” Sage muttered. “I’m smart enough. I get it, but I’m not smart enough, you know? Like, I’m good at football, but not good enough to get a scholarship. I could’ve done something, but now... now I’m just here, doing all this for everyone else. And it feels like... I don’t know. It feels like I’m just... stuck.”
I could see the frustration building inside him, the words tumbling out quicker now, as if they were all coming to the surface at once. "It’s like I have to prove I’m worth something. I gotta show people I can do something great. But I can’t even get that right. I’m just... here. Taking care of everything, and nothing ever changes.”
I wasn’t sure what to say at first. I could tell Sage wasn’t great at talking about his feelings. It was like his words weren’t fully connected, like he wasn’t even sure how to say what he meant.
“You know, Sage,” I said softly, “you don’t have to keep doing everything for everyone else. You don’t always have to be the one taking care of things.”
He looked at me for a moment, his eyes narrowing like he was trying to make sense of it. “But... that’s what I do. That’s what I’m good at. I’m the guy who makes sure no one else has to worry. Someone’s gotta be that person, right?”
I nodded slowly, but I could see the doubt in his face. "You’re good at taking care of people, but what about taking care of yourself?”
Sage looked down, picking at the edge of his notebook. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. “It’s just... I don’t think I matter enough for anyone to care. I’m not special or anything. I just do what needs to be done, and I’m not even sure why.”
“You matter,” I said firmly, glancing at him. “You’re more than just the guy who fixes things. I don’t think you see that, but you’re important. You can’t keep running on empty, Sage. You’re doing a lot, but you need to take care of yourself, too.”
There was a long pause. He seemed to be thinking about it, but his expression remained clouded.
Finally, he spoke again, but his words were slower, more deliberate now. “I don’t know how to stop, you know? I don’t know how to stop being the one who’s always there. I don’t know who I’d be if I wasn’t the one fixing everything.”
“You don’t have to be the fixer all the time,” I said, my voice soft but steady. “You’re allowed to be someone who needs help too.”
Sage let out a breath, his shoulders dropping slightly. “I guess I never thought about it that way. It’s just hard. I don’t... I don’t think anyone would notice if I wasn’t there to pick up the pieces.”
“You’d be noticed,” I said, looking him in the eye. “Trust me, Sage. You’re worth more than just the stuff you do for other people. You’ve got to start seeing that.”
Sage glanced at me, his lips curling into a small, tired smile. “Thanks, Savannah,” he muttered. “I... I appreciate it. I think I needed to hear that.”
“No problem,” I replied, feeling a little lighter. “Anytime.”
As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, I stood up. “You good to go?”
“Yeah,” Sage said, stretching as he got up. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” I repeated. “Seriously. You’re not invisible, Sage. Don’t forget that.”

I walked out of history class and into the hallway, still trying to shake off the conversation I’d had with Sage. My thoughts were scattered, but as I turned the corner, I spotted Tom standing by the door, waiting for me. His smile was warm, like he was genuinely happy to see me, and for some reason, that made my heart flutter.
"Hey," he said as he walked over. "Can I eat with you today?"
I blinked, a little caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. Let’s go.”
As we walked to the cafeteria, Tom casually threw his arm around my shoulders. I tensed up at first, not expecting it, but then I relaxed. It was comfortable. His arm was solid, warm, and somehow made my brain shut off for a second. Maybe it was silly, but I couldn’t stop thinking, "Oh my god, he's so fine." I quickly shoved the thought aside, not wanting to admit it even to myself.
We made our way through the crowded lunchroom, Tom guiding us to my usual spot. Rachel was hunched over her phone, her smile bright and eyes glued to whatever conversation was unfolding there. Lina was deep into her homework, not even looking up as we sat down.
"Hey, guys," I said, dropping my bag on the floor and pulling my seat out.
Lina gave me a quick nod, barely sparing a glance, while Rachel didn’t look up from her phone. It felt like we were all in our own little worlds, but then something across the room caught my eye.
My gaze drifted involuntarily toward Brooke.
She was sitting on Sage’s lap. Throwing herself at him, with her legs draped over his and one arm thrown lazily around his neck. She was kissing his cheek—no, not just kissing. She was lingering there, her lips pressed against his skin like she was trying to stake some claim on him.
I watched for a moment, my chest tightening as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. Sage, of all people, had never been one to get mixed up in stuff like this. He was always so laid-back, always putting other people first, but right now, I couldn’t help but notice the awkwardness in the way he was sitting, as if he was trying to hold it together for her.
Tom must’ve seen where my gaze had landed because he leaned in and murmured low enough for me to hear over the cafeteria noise, “Yeah, she’s been like that all day. Since the party, Sage’s been staying over at Brooke’s house ‘cause she doesn’t want to be alone. When he tried to leave yesterday, she... freaked out. Started crying and stuff. It’s kinda wild.”
My stomach dropped. “What the hell?” I mumbled, not meaning to say it out loud but not able to stop myself either.
Tom nodded, his eyes flicking briefly toward Brooke and Sage, then back to me. "I don’t know, it’s like... she’s losing it. She’s been all over him, making him stay with her, and he’s too nice to tell her no. He’s always trying to make everyone happy, but she’s dragging him down with her.”
My fingers tightened around the edge of my tray. “That’s... that’s messed up.”
Tom looked at me, his expression softening a bit. “Yeah, I know. And I don’t think he knows how to deal with it. It’s like she’s using him. He tries to help, tries to make her feel better, but it’s never enough. She’s just sucking him dry, and he’s too loyal to see it.”
I felt a strange mix of anger and something else—something I couldn’t quite place. Part of me wanted to say Good, like Brooke was finally getting what she deserved. But the other part of me... part of me felt bad for Sage. He didn’t deserve that.
“Do you think she’s... in love with him, or just... controlling him?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. My voice felt smaller than I wanted it to.
Tom shrugged, his gaze flicking between Brooke and Sage again. “Maybe both. She’s always been selfish, but this? This is a whole new level. She doesn’t know how to be alone. She’s been throwing herself at him like he’s the only thing keeping her together.”
I couldn’t help but feel a little disgusted. “It’s like... she’s suffocating him,” I muttered under my breath.
Tom nodded again. "Yeah, exactly. She doesn’t even realize it, but she’s completely controlling him. And Sage... he’s just tryiI shifted in my seat, trying to shake off the weird tension that had been hanging around ever since I’d caught Brooke all over Sage. It was hard to ignore, and now my mind was racing. I needed to focus on something else—anything else.
"Hey, Gin," I said, nudging her shoulder. "What’s got you so occupied? You’re way quieter than usual."
Ginny didn’t even look up from her phone. She was typing away furiously, probably texting someone, though I had no idea who. "Oh, just talking to Nathan," she replied, distracted.
My brows furrowed. "Nathan?" I repeated, glancing at Lina for confirmation. "As in, like... your cousin’s boyfriend, Nathan?"
Lina looked between Ginny and me, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. "Yeah, like... that Nathan?"
Ginny finally lifted her eyes from her screen, a small smirk on her lips. "It’s not like that," she said quickly, her voice a little defensive. "We’re just talking."
Tom, who had been quiet up until now, leaned in, narrowing his eyes. "Seriously, Genevieve, stay away from him," he said, his tone low but firm. "He’s been more of an asshole than usual lately, and I don’t think you wanna get tangled up in whatever mess he’s making right now."
Ginny rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. "I’m not some little kid who needs you guys to tell me what to do," she snapped, but there was an edge of uncertainty in her voice that made me think she wasn’t as confident in her choice as she was pretending to be.
I leaned forward, giving her a pointed look. "Look, we’re just saying, Nathan’s been all over the place. And he’s not exactly... the best person to be talking to right now. You really don’t want to get caught up in whatever drama he's got going on."
Ginny sighed, tossing her phone down onto the table. "I’m not getting involved with him, okay?" she said, trying to sound casual, but I could tell it was starting to get to her. "It’s just... talking. That’s it."
I exchanged a quick glance with Tom and Lina, who both looked unconvinced. Nathan was a mess, and Ginny wasn’t usually one to get pulled into other people’s drama. But something about the way she was reacting made me think she was maybe trying to convince herself more than us.
Tom shrugged, not buying it. "Just... be careful," he said, his voice softer now but still laced with concern. "Nathan’s not the kind of guy you want to be around when he’s acting like this."
Ginny didn’t answer right away. Instead, she grabbed her lunch, picking at her salad. The tension in the air was thick, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was brewing, and it wasn’t good.
Tom must’ve felt it too because he clapped his hands together suddenly, making me and Lina jump.
“So,” he said, dragging the word out as he leaned forward, eyes flicking between us. “If you had to be trapped in a horror movie, which one are you surviving?”
Lina blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”
“You heard me,” Tom said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Pick your battleground, ladies. Zombies? Ghosts? Some masked psycho in the woods?”
Ginny snorted, finally looking up. “Oh, easy. I’d survive Scream because I’d just be the killer.”
I gave her a flat look. “Not how the game works.”
“Sounds like a win to me,” Tom said, nodding approvingly. “Lina?”
Lina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why are we talking about this?”
“Because,” Tom said, reaching for one of her fries and popping it into his mouth before she could stop him, “the air was getting all weird and tense, and I’m allergic to bad vibes. Now answer the question.”
Lina rolled her eyes, but the smallest smile tugged at her lips. “Fine. I’d survive A Quiet Place because I literally never talk.”
“Debatable,” I muttered.
Tom gasped dramatically. “She speaks!”
I nudged him with my elbow. “Okay, your turn then, Mr. No-Bad-Vibes.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Tom said, leaning back with the confidence of someone who had been waiting for this exact moment his whole life. “I’d survive Jurassic Park because, honestly? I think I could tame a dinosaur.”
Ginny choked on her drink. “Are you insane?”
“No, no, hear me out,” Tom said, sitting up and gesturing wildly. “Everyone in those movies is always running from the dinosaurs. But what if—stay with me now—what if I just... didn’t?”
Lina stared. “You would die.”
“Or,” Tom countered, grinning, “I would ride a T-Rex into battle. You don’t know my life.”
I couldn’t help it—I laughed. I laughed, and so did Ginny, and even Lina cracked a smile, shaking her head.
For a few minutes, the weird tension disappeared, replaced by Tom’s ridiculous antics. It wasn’t until the bell rang that we were all reminded that lunch was over and real life was waiting for us again.
Tom stood up first, glancing at me. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”
My stomach flipped. I nodded, grabbing my bag, and as we stepped into the hallway, he casually slung an arm around my shoulders like it was nothing.
Like it was just natural.
And I, meanwhile, was losing my mind.
As we stepped into the hallway, the noise of students moving between classes buzzed around us. Tom’s arm was still draped over my shoulders, and I was doing everything in my power not to overthink it.
I mean, it was just Tom. Tom. My friend. My very attractive, very easygoing, very currently-touching-me friend.
I needed to get a grip.
“So,” he said, glancing down at me as we walked. “Where to next?”
“Geometry,” I replied, glancing up at him. “You?”
“Chem,” he groaned dramatically. “I’m convinced my teacher was put on this earth solely to ruin my life.”
I snorted. “That bad?”
“You don’t understand, Sav,” he said, pulling me closer as if he was about to share a dark secret. “The man speaks in riddles. I ask a question, and he answers with another question. He’s like a human Magic 8-Ball, except every response is ‘Ask again later.’”
I laughed. “Sounds like a you problem.”
“Oh, it is a me problem,” he agreed. “Because, unlike you, I am not an academic weapon.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hardly.”
He gave me a pointed look. “Didn’t you get, like, a 98 on the last history test?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, and?”
“And,” Tom said, shaking me lightly by the shoulders, “I got a 51. And I studied. Like, actually studied.”
“Oof.” I winced. “That’s rough, buddy.”
“I know,” he sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s fine. I’ll just become a professional hot guy instead.”
I rolled my eyes, but I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. “Solid plan.”
“Right?” he said with a grin. “Maybe I’ll start modeling. Y’know, give the people what they want.”
I nudged him playfully. “Oh, for sure. You’d make a great Instagram baddie.”
“Exactly! You get it.”
We reached the South hallway, and Tom finally dropped his arm from my shoulders. Immediately, I missed the warmth of it.
"Well,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Guess I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder. “Later.”
For a second, he hesitated, like he was about to say something else. But then he just shot me a lazy grin and backed away.
I turned into my classroom, trying very hard not to smile like an idiot.

The rest of the day dragged. Notes, lectures, the occasional group work—none of it really stuck. I barely processed anything my teachers were saying, my mind preoccupied with everything that had happened at lunch. Every time I tried to focus, my thoughts drifted back to Brooke, Sage, and the way Tom had looked at me when he told me what was going on. It felt like something was shifting, like the ground beneath me was a little less stable than before.
By the time the final bell rang, I was more than ready to leave. I pushed through the crowded hallway, heading for the front door and I stepped out of the building, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement, I barely had time to adjust my bag on my shoulder before a voice called out behind me.
“Savannah, wait up.”
I turned to see Sage weaving through the crowd of students, his expression unreadable but his posture tense. He ran a hand through his already messy hair as he fell into step beside me.
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
He exhaled sharply, glancing down at the pavement like he was debating whether or not to say anything. Finally, he muttered, “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
I frowned. “Because of Brooke?”
Sage let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Because of everything. But yeah, mostly Brooke.” He shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. “She won’t let me leave. Like, literally. If I try, she freaks out. Crying, begging me to stay—saying she can’t be alone. And I get it, okay? I get that she’s going through something, but I can’t be her emotional support animal 24/7.”
I studied his face, noticing the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged like the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “So why don’t you just leave?” I asked.
He huffed out a frustrated breath. “Because I feel like I can’t. If I walk away, I’m the bad guy. If I stay, I feel like I’m suffocating.” He hesitated, then added, “I don’t even know when it got this bad. It was just little things at first, you know? She’d ask me to come over, and I’d say yes. Then it became her needing me to stay. And now it’s like… she doesn’t even function without me there.”
I didn’t say anything right away, letting his words settle.
“I just—” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to do. Do I just cut her off? Ease out of it? Tell her to get her shit together?” He scoffed at himself. “Not that she’d listen to me anyway.”
I bit my lip, choosing my words carefully. “I mean… you’re not her therapist, Sage. And you’re not responsible for keeping her together.”
He let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, try telling her that.”
I shrugged. “I mean it. You don’t owe her this. And honestly? The longer you let it keep going, the harder it’s gonna be to get out.”
Sage was quiet for a long moment, his jaw tight. “I just don’t want to make it worse.”
I sighed. “I get that. But… do you really think this is sustainable?”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and I could see the answer in his expression. No, it wasn’t.
For the first time, he looked at me directly. “If you were me, what would you do?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Uh…” I hesitated, then said, “I’d probably start setting boundaries, like now. You don’t have to cut her off, but you have to stop letting her control when you come and go. If she freaks out, that’s her problem to deal with, not yours.”
He was quiet again, thinking it over. “Yeah,” he muttered eventually, more to himself than to me. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
We walked in silence for a bit, and then he let out a short laugh. “Shit. Look at me, dumping all this on you. Sorry.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s fine. It’s kinda nice seeing you actually talk about your own problems for once.”
He smirked, nudging my arm. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
But as we walked toward the parking lot, I couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite everything he’d just admitted, Sage still didn’t know how to actually let go
Sage parted ways with me and I was just about to head out when I saw Tom leaning against his car, laughing at something Nathan had said. I hesitated for a moment, but Tom waved me over, a grin plastered on his face.
“Yo, come here, Savannah!” Tom called out, his voice relaxed, as always.
Nathan, however, had that smirk on his face—the one he only ever wore when he was about to say something stupid. I didn’t have the patience for it, but I didn’t want to seem rude by not going over. I walked toward them, my eyes on the ground, praying I wouldn’t have to deal with Nathan’s usual crap.
“What’s up?” I asked, trying to keep it casual.
Tom pushed himself off the car, gesturing for me to come stand next to him. “Nothing much. Just wanted to see what you were up to. Nathan here was saying some wild stuff about the party.”
Nathan straightened up at that, his gaze flicking over me with that unsettling look he always gave girls—like he was deciding if he wanted to keep talking to you or dismiss you. He’d always been like that, like he was trying to figure out if you were worth his attention or just some background noise.
“Oh yeah, the party,” he said, letting out a chuckle. “It was wild, huh? I’m still surprised Brooke’s letting Sage stay at her place. You know, since she’s such a mess right now.”
I raised an eyebrow, my gaze flicking between Nathan and Tom. “What do you mean, ‘letting’ him stay?”
Nathan shrugged, leaning back against the car again. “I mean, Brooke’s got a thing for Sage, right? She’s all over him since the party, like he’s her personal caretaker. It’s kinda funny. She’s a mess, but I guess it’s what he does best. Clean up everyone’s shit. Literally and figuratively.”
It was a subtle jab at both Brooke and Sage, wrapped in the kind of joke that Nathan thought made him sound cool. But it didn’t sit right with me. It was the way he talked about people, especially women—like they were some puzzle he was solving.
I forced myself to stay calm, but there was something about the way Nathan spoke about Brooke that rubbed me the wrong way. “I guess she’s just leaning on him because she’s a mess, huh?”
Nathan grinned. “Yeah, but that’s what women do, right? They get all dramatic and needy. It's part of the charm, I guess. Keeps the guys around, makes them feel useful. You’ve seen how she acts, right?”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. There was no point in calling him out—he wouldn’t listen, and he didn’t care. But hearing him talk like that, like women were just there for men to “feel useful” around, made something in me click. It was always subtle with Nathan, the way he wore his misogyny like it was natural, like it was part of the fabric of who he was.
I tried to play it cool, but my voice had a sharp edge when I spoke again. “Yeah, I’ve seen it. And it’s just… gross.”
Nathan gave a small laugh, but I could tell he didn’t take me seriously. He was used to getting away with it, used to everyone thinking he was just this charming guy who said the right things. But underneath that charm was a guy who thought women were just convenient for his ego.
Tom cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “Alright, alright, enough about that. We just came over here to chill, not to get into all this.”
Nathan didn’t respond. He just shrugged, eyes flicking toward the parking lot as if something else was more important. “Sure. Whatever. I don’t know why people get so worked up about things that don’t matter. Like women. I mean, who cares? It’s all the same.”
That comment, the casual disregard for women as if they were interchangeable, hit me harder than I expected. I felt a wave of frustration, but I swallowed it down. It wasn’t worth engaging. Nathan wasn’t listening to anything but himself.
“Well, I’m gonna head out,” I said quickly, turning away before he could say anything else. The last thing I wanted was to get caught in some long conversation about what Nathan thought was “normal” when it came to women.
“Catch you later,” Tom called out as I walked off, but I didn’t look back.
As I headed toward the school’s exit, I could still feel the weight of Nathan’s words, how he spoke about women like they were just pawns in some game he was playing. It wasn’t new—it was the way he always thought, always acted. But for some reason, today it hit different.
As I walked out of the school, my head still swirling from the conversation with Nathan, I barely noticed my mom’s car pulling up beside me until it came to a slow stop. My mom waved at me from the driver's seat, her sunglasses perched on top of her head, a slight grin on her face. Gregory, her latest boyfriend, sat next to her in the passenger seat, looking about as thrilled to be there as usual.
"Hey, baby!" she called out as I approached the car, leaning over to open the passenger door. "Come on, get in. I’ve got something to talk to you about."
I slid into the seat, the smell of whatever perfume she was wearing filling my nose. Gregory barely acknowledged me as I buckled up, his eyes focused on his phone. I rolled my eyes but didn’t say anything.
Mom started the car, pulling into traffic as I glanced over at Gregory. He was silent, his usual nonchalance hovering in the air like a bad smell. He was all right, I guess—just not the type to have much of a personality. And my mom, well, she was always too busy with whatever new project she was working on to really give me any attention.
After a few moments of silence, my mom glanced over at me, clearly itching to tell me something. "So, listen," she began, her tone casual but not quite as lighthearted as usual. "I found a job."
I blinked, processing her words slowly. "Wait, what? A job?"
She nodded, eyes still on the road as she steered the car toward the highway. "Yeah, it's part-time at a cafe down the street. I’m gonna be working mornings and evenings, so I won’t be able to take you to school or pick you up anymore. You’ll need to figure out another way to get here and back."
My stomach dropped. I wasn’t mad—if anything, I was proud of her for finding something that could get her out of the house and into something steady. But still, it felt like another thing that was changing, something that took away from the stability I had come to expect. And honestly, I was just a little overwhelmed by how everything seemed to be shifting in my life all at once.
"So, you won’t be around to drive me?" I asked, trying to sound casual, but I could feel the unease bubbling up in my chest.
"Yeah," she said, her voice a little softer now. "I know it’s gonna be a big change, but it’s for the better. You’re old enough to handle this kind of thing, right?"
I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yeah, I guess."
Gregory shifted in his seat, finally looking at me for the first time. "Don’t worry, Savannah," he said, his voice oddly serious for someone who barely spoke. "You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out."
I didn’t know how to feel about Gregory’s sudden attempt at reassurance. It didn’t exactly comfort me. But I appreciated the effort—barely.
Mom continued on, steering the car around a corner. "I know it’s going to be a bit of a hassle, but hey, you’ve been doing great lately. You’ve got this."
I didn’t respond right away, lost in my thoughts. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle things—maybe I just didn’t want to have to.
After all, life wasn’t supposed to keep throwing curveballs at me, right?
"Yeah, I got it," I said finally, trying to shake off the uncertainty creeping up my spine.
The rest of the ride home was mostly quiet. My mind was already running through the possibilities. I couldn’t rely on my mom anymore for the little things, like rides to school. Would I have to start asking Tom to drive me? Or worse—would I have to rely on my own legs to get me places? That thought didn’t sit well.
As we pulled into the driveway, I grabbed my things, trying to push all those thoughts away. At least for now, I had more important things to think about.

As I walked past the kitchen, I heard my mom call out from the other room, her voice warm but distracted. "Hey, what do you want for dinner, honey?"
My stomach tightened at the question. I hadn’t realized how much my appetite had shrunk lately—how much I was avoiding eating altogether. My mom wasn’t one to press, but I could hear the expectation in her tone. She always wanted to make sure I was eating enough. Maybe she just didn’t realize that sometimes it felt harder than it should be.
I paused in the doorway, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag as I tried to focus on her words, on the idea of food.
"Anything, really," I replied, my voice strained. It wasn’t the truth. I wasn’t hungry. In fact, I hadn’t really felt hunger in a while—not real hunger, anyway. Just this gnawing, uncomfortable feeling that never quite went away.
I looked over at the counter where she was sorting through some vegetables, her back turned to me. The kitchen smelled like fresh garlic, and I could see the cutting board full of diced onions and bell peppers. Everything looked so... normal. Too normal. It felt like the food was just waiting there to consume me, ready to overpower me in ways I didn’t know how to deal with.
I didn’t want to think about it, but the thought crept in anyway: the weight. The numbers. How much of something was too much? How little was just enough? These stupid calculations, these constant reminders that my body wasn’t good enough, not perfect enough.
"Just something light would be good," I managed, voice colder than I intended.
"Okay, sweetie," she called, as though she hadn’t noticed the shift in my tone. "I’ll whip something up in a minute."
I nodded and quickly stepped past the kitchen, retreating down the hallway toward my room. I didn’t even know why I had said that—I didn’t feel like eating anything, let alone something "light." I just wanted the conversation to end, wanted to shut out the nagging feeling that gnawed at me every time food came into the equation.
Once in my room, I let the door click shut behind me, but the tension in my chest remained, tightening with each shallow breath. I kicked my shoes off and sat at the edge of my bed, my fingers tracing the hem of my shirt as I stared at the wall. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d truly enjoyed a meal, when I had actually felt full in a good way instead of just... empty.
Everything felt like it was balancing on a fine line, teetering between control and chaos.
I walked over to the mirror, my eyes unwillingly drawn to the reflection staring back at me. It wasn’t even a conscious choice; I just couldn’t help myself. Every time I passed by, it felt like the glass was calling to me—an invitation to compare, to dissect, to find every flaw.
The person in the mirror felt... wrong. Nothing about her looked like she was supposed to. My torso seemed to stretch on forever, like a column that didn’t fit with the rest of my body. My shoulders were too broad, and my arms hung awkwardly by my sides, too long for the shape of me. I could see the curve of my ribs under my shirt, but instead of being a subtle, natural curve, it looked almost forced—like my body was trying to break out of the shape I was born into, and it wasn’t succeeding.
I pulled at the hem of my shirt, letting it ride up slightly, just enough to let me see my stomach. The sight was like a slap in the face. It wasn’t the flatness I wished for, the one that seemed to always escape me. Instead, there was this soft, bloated feeling that seemed to hang in the air, like my stomach had a life of its own. It was too... round, too there, not in the way I wanted.
I sucked in, tried to force the shape of me to align with what I thought it should be, but all I saw was a body that didn’t match the version I imagined. My legs looked too short, like they didn’t even belong to me. It was like they were attached to someone else, and no matter how hard I tried to see something different, they always appeared disproportionate—stubby, out of place. My thighs seemed to spill over, forming lumps that weren’t supposed to be there. I hated the way they rubbed together when I walked, the way they felt like they were swallowing me whole.
And then my face—oh, my face. I couldn’t even look at it for more than a second before turning away. My cheeks were too round, my eyes too far apart, and everything seemed to be sagging in places I didn’t want it to. My chin was too soft, too pronounced, like the whole shape of my face was wrong.
The more I stared, the more the lines blurred between what I knew and what I thought I should see. The reflection wasn’t me; it was just a stranger wearing my skin. I didn’t know how to reconcile it, how to make peace with the body that was mine but didn’t feel like it.
I let out a breath, something tight and strangled, before letting the shirt fall back into place. For a moment, I just stood there, feeling the weight of all the thoughts that had come crashing into my head, knowing I wouldn’t get away from them. The mirror was never going to lie.
And neither was I.
I couldn’t stand it anymore—the mirror, the reflection, the distorted image of myself that I couldn’t escape. I turned away, my chest tight, breathing shallow as if the air was too thick to get through. I stumbled back a few steps, almost tripping over the scattered clothes on the floor, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t paying attention to anything anymore. I just needed to get away from the mirror.
I shoved my closet door open with trembling hands, stepping inside and pulling it closed behind me, the darkness of the small space swallowing me whole. I didn’t bother to turn on the light. The dimness felt safer somehow, like I was shutting myself off from the world, from the prying eyes and the expectation to look like something I never could be. I dropped down to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, curling up in the corner.
I pressed my forehead against my knees, my hands gripping my legs tightly, as if I could hold myself together long enough to stop the thoughts from spiraling further. But they didn’t stop. They never did. They only got louder.
I felt the weight of every inch of my body—the way it was all wrong, how I couldn’t seem to breathe through the suffocating feeling that everything about me was inadequate. I thought about all the things I couldn’t change, the way my skin felt too tight around the wrong places, the way nothing ever seemed to fit.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to just breathe—to slow it all down. The air felt heavy, like it was pressing against me. My chest was tight with the ache that wouldn’t go away. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even make a sound.
I stayed like that for a while, my mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions. I was tired, so tired, of hating what I saw in the mirror. I wanted to get up, to do something, but I couldn’t move. It was like I was frozen in place, stuck in the chaos of my own mind.
Then, finally, I heard it—the sound of my mom’s voice calling from downstairs.
“Savannah, dinner’s ready! Are you coming down?”
I sat still for a moment longer, listening to the muffled noise from down the hall , trying to pull myself together enough to go down and act like everything was fine. My mom didn’t know. She didn’t understand. No one did.
With a shaky breath, I finally stood up, wiping my eyes before I even realized they were wet. I reached for the door and pulled it open, stepping back into the light, but the feeling of being... not quite right, still stuck with me. It followed me downstairs, trailing like a shadow.
I forced a smile when I saw her at the dinner table, but I couldn’t shake the image of myself, the one I knew too well, from my mind.
I sat down slowly, my hands still trembling, my eyes darting around to avoid looking at anything too long. Gregory was sitting across from me, already halfway through his meal, and my mom was busy fussing over the plates, still oblivious to everything.
I barely heard their conversation, my mind too loud to process the words. The hum of the lights above me felt deafening, my body still tight with the weight of the thoughts I couldn’t shake. I pressed my palms into my legs, trying to feel something other than the distorted image of myself that kept flashing behind my eyes.
My mom smiled at me, setting down the last plate. "Well, looks like we’re all set. Let’s eat."

Notes:

I HAVE A PINTERESTBOARD MADE FOR ALL THE CHARACTERS ( plus some from other fandoms..)- https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/
Heres the character specific links!!
Alicia-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/alicia-hamilton/
Rachel-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/rachel-rivera/
Brooke-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/brooklyn-hayes/
Tom-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/tom-dawson/
Sage-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/sage-bond/
Savannah-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/savannah-reed/
Nathan (stinky)-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/nathan-campbell/
Genevieve-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/genevieve-ryan/
Angelina-https://www.pinterest.com/acegobrrrr/angelina-davis/