Kailee Bennett
My plan for the day was simple: show up, fade into the background, and survive until lunch without anyone making any fat jokes about me. Charlotte was out sick, so I didn’t have my usual human shield. I avoided eye contact, kept my head down, and prayed to every deity that existed that any of the mean seniors that usually tormented me, especially Sienna wouldn’t notice me. So far, everything was going well. I only had one class before lunch. Drama class. Drama class was supposed to be optional. And yet there I was, sitting at the back, trying to blend into the ugly beige walls while half the class stretched like they were warming up for Broadway. Charlotte had told me it was chill—watch a few skits, maybe write a review, get easy credit. She forgot to mention it was a social battlefield. Especially when Sienna walked in, flanked by her Barbie gang. Blonde, devious, and always two seconds from ruining someone’s life. She spotted me and smiled. Not the friendly kind. The I’ve-picked-my-target kind. Five minutes later, she “suddenly” clutched her stomach. “Oh no,” she gasped to her group. “I feel terrible. I can’t perform today.” Cue the overacted wince. Fake. So fake. Then one of her hench-clones turned toward me with a wide grin. “Hey, fatso. Could you be a total lifesaver and fill in for Sienna today? Just for today.” I blinked. “What?” “You don’t even have to act,” she added, sweetly condescending. “Just read the lines so we don’t fall behind.” “No thanks,” I said quickly. “I don’t do spotlights.” But before I could turn back into a shadow, I heard my name. “Kailee Bennett?” Ms. Langston called from across the room, smiling. “Are you Sienna’s replacement today?” My head snapped up. “What—? N-” “Yes!” Sienna and her friends chorused. “She volunteered!” I whipped around. They were all grinning. Sweet. Innocent. Lying through their perfect teeth. Ms. Langston clapped. “Wonderful. Everyone else is ready. Let’s start with the balcony scene.” “I didn’t—” I tried. But she waved me off. “You’ll be great. Let’s see your Juliet.” Juliet? I wasn’t even supposed to be on stage, and now I was playing freaking Juliet? Lead role? Before I could protest further, one of Sienna’s friends pressed something into my hands. “Costume,” she said brightly. “For authenticity.” I stared at the pale pink corset-style gown. It looked like it belonged to a Barbie who moonlighted as a stripper. “Wait—no one else is wearing costumes.” “Lead always dresses up,” she said with a shrug. “Break a leg.” It was obviously a trap. I should’ve said no. But the teacher was watching, and the whispers were growing louder, and my skin was already crawling. I just needed to get this over with and crawl back into the shadows. I ducked into the changing area and slipped into the dress. It barely zipped. The fabric strangled my waist. The sleeves pinched. And I was 90% sure it was two sizes too small — on purpose. I felt like a stuffed sausage with a skirt. I called Charlotte in a panic. “Charlotte, I’m going to die.” “Wait, what?” she whispered. “Kailee, slow down—what happened?” “They tricked me into reading for Juliet! I’m in a dress I can’t breathe in! Everyone’s staring at me!” “Okay, breathe. First of all, you’re brave as hell for not running. Just read the lines. Get through it. Then go home and eat a whole cake. You’ve got this.” I swallowed. “You suck at pep talks.” “You’re the baddest Juliet that stage has ever seen. Now go ruin some lives.” I hung up. Took a shaky breath. And walked out onto the stage. Silence. And then— Laughter. From the moment I stepped into view, the entire room erupted. The students were laughing. Some whispering. Others pointing. A few gasped in horror at the dress. And in the back row, Sienna sat upright, very much not sick, phone in hand, grinning from ear to ear. She planned it. All of it. I could hear the whispering from the stage “She’s not even in drama—” “Sienna’s idea—” “She’s gonna bomb.” I stood there frozen. The shame crawled over me like fire ants. Ms. Langston clapped sharply. “Quiet!” she snapped, eyes hard. “Let’s give her a chance.” But the damage was done. I was humiliated. And I wanted to run. But then I saw Sienna wink at her friends. That was it. Screw her. I took a breath and raised the script. My hands were shaking. My voice cracked on the first line. But I didn’t stop. I refused to give them the satisfaction of watching me fall apart. Line after line, I poured everything into the performance — the embarrassment, the rage, the aching feeling of not fitting in. And somewhere between “O Romeo, Romeo” and “parting is such sweet sorrow,” the room went quiet. Dead silent. When I finished, I let the final word linger, dropped the script, and walked off stage. Still trembling. Still burning. Behind me, I heard clapping. First Ms. Langston. Then some of the others. Even the drama boys. “Kailee,” Ms. Langston called and I stopped and turned back. “That was… spectacular. That was raw, vulnerable, real. I’ve never seen Juliet read like that. You’re going to be our Juliet” What??!! “I didn’t even—” I stammered. “Oh, don’t be modest,” Ms. Langston said brightly. “Juliet is yours, Kailee. Welcome to the spring production.” Sienna stood, jaw tight and voice sharp. “Wait, what? That was just a joke. She wasn’t serious. That was supposed to be my role.” She whined Mrs Langston didn’t hesitate. “Kailee just did more in one reading than you have in three weeks. The lead role is hers.” Gasps. A few shocked laughs. And Sienna? She looked like someone just slapped her with her own glitter lip gloss. Gasps. Murmurs. Sienna looked like someone had spit in her face I changed back into my normal clothes as fast as I could and bolted down the hall, script still in hand. I was about to disappear —when I heard a voice behind me. “Not bad, stepsis.” I turned. Ryder What was he doing here?? Leaning against the lockers. Lip ring. Same smug grin. He had seen it all. “You were here?” I hissed. “Why are you even at my school? Don’t tell me someone told you about this and you came here to humiliate me further?” Why else could he be here? I mean he doesn’t even go to school here He smirked. “What happened to our no-talking pact?” I rolled my eyes and lifted my brows urging him to talk “Not everything’s about you, you know. Been here all year. Maybe if you looked up from your sketchpad once in a while…” I wanted to slap the smirk off his face. I thought he went to a rich private school Of course the universe decides to make him school here with me. “I made a fool of myself,” I snapped. “And now I’ve somehow been rewarded with more humiliation. I’m telling Ms. Langston I’m out. I can’t do this.” Before he could respond, a familiar voice cut through. “Hey. Juliet??” Noah. The Noah. My Noah “You did really well up there,” he said. “Looking forward to working with you. Looks like we’re scene partners now.” My brain short-circuited. “Y-You’re Romeo?” He grinned. “Guess that makes you my Juliet.” I nodded too fast. “Yeah! I mean — yes. Definitely. I’ll be your Juliet. I mean—” He laughed and walked off. I turned back to Ryder, completely mortified. Had I just agreed to be Juliet?? “You’re laughing??” “I’m enjoying myself immensely,” he said. “I’m going to die,” I whispered. “I have no idea how to act. And now I’m going to bomb the whole play and humiliate myself in front of Noah. Great.” “That depends,” he said slowly, “on whether you let me help you.” I narrowed my eyes. “Why would you want to help me?” “Sienna dumped me. Then saw us talking at that party and got jealous. If she sees us getting closer, she’ll spiral.” I blinked. “You want me to help you make your ex jealous?” “And in return, I help you learn your lines, not embarrass yourself, and maybe get your little Romeo to notice you for real.” I stared at him. He didn’t flinch. “You’ve got nothing to lose,” he added. “We keep our little step-secret. We help each other out. No one has to know.” I stared at him. The audacity. The nerve. He looked so smug, like he’d just solved world peace and deserved a damn medal for it. I hated that he always looked so infuriatingly sure of himself. Like he knew I’d say yes. Like he knew I needed the help. I folded my arms. “I don’t need your help.” “You don’t,” he said casually. “But you want to not make a complete fool of yourself in front of your crush.” I scowled. Ugh. He was right. That was the most irritating part. I let out a breath through gritted teeth. “Fine.” “So...?” “Deal,” I snapped. His lip twitched, and that damn smirk returned before he pushed a stray strand of hair out of my face. He lifted my chin up and his eyes dipped to my lips. What was he doing? “Hope you’re ready to practice kissing scenes, Juliet.” My brain screamed. Oh God. What the hell did I just agree to?Ryder Murray I’ve seen a lot of messed up things. Drunken fights in gas station parking lots. My dad getting thrown out of bars. My mom packing up her bags one night and never coming back. You grow up like that, you learn to build walls early. You learn that feelings are weapons, and if you let anyone see yours—they’ll use them against you. But I wasn’t prepared for her. I wasn’t prepared for Kailee Bennett storming into my life with her hoodie armor and eyes that saw straight through my sarcasm. I wasn’t prepared for the sound of her crying in that bathroom—the way it gutted me like a knife between the ribs. I wasn’t prepared to feel anything at all. But I did. And now I couldn’t stop. She looked at me like I was the villain in her story. And maybe I was. Maybe I didn’t deserve her trust. But watching her break down like that—watching her shove me away like I was the reason she bled—it did something to me. I hadn’t smoked since. The cigarette
Kailee Bennett If awkward tension could be served on a platter, my family would be the head chefs. Breakfast was… painful. Like chewing glass while smiling. Mom had made pancakes, all bright-eyed and determined to play happy families. Greg—Ryder’s dad—sat at the end of the table reading some business report like he was too rich for human interaction. And then there was Ryder. Sitting across from me. Looking like sin incarnate in a plain black T-shirt, twirling a fork like he wasn’t the cause of my emotional breakdown yesterday. “You two should hang out more,” Mom said cheerfully, slicing a strawberry like it hadn’t just sliced my soul. “Maybe go shopping or see a movie. Bond a little!” I choked on my orange juice. Ryder didn’t even flinch. “I think Kailee would rather set herself on fire.” “He’s not wrong,” I muttered. Greg looked up. “It wouldn’t kill either of you to try. You live under the same roof now. Might as well get used to ea
Kailee Bennett I should’ve just kept scrolling but I just couldn’t resist after liking one picture of Noah on Instagram. I swiped to his profile God damn. No matter how times I stalk his Instagram and how many times see the same pictures, I still get mesmerized like I was seeing for the first time. I keep telling myself to stop. But my fingers had a mind of their own. They just kept scrolling and scrolling I’d scrolled so far down Noah’s Instagram page, I was practically in 2020. Shirtless beach photos. Prom tux shots. Smirking selfies that looked like they were carved by gods and filtered by angels. I was practically inhaling every beach picture, sports shot, and moody selfie like a love-starved teenager He looked good in every single one. Like, stupid good. Shirtless at the lake? Breathtaking Him smiling at a bonfire, dimples out like he invented happiness? Heavenly Candid hallway shot with his hand running through his hair like he didn’t know he was br
Kailee Bennett I didn’t sleep a wink last night. Partially because I was still mortified about being pranked into wearing a sausage-tight Juliet dress in front of half the school. And partially because every time I closed my eyes, Ryder’s voice echoed in my brain. “Hope you’re ready to practice kissing scenes, Juliet.” What kind of freak says that and then just walks off like he didn’t just rearrange your entire emotional stability? Still, I dragged myself to drama club the next day. Script in hand. Hoodie zipped up. Hair shoved in a bun so high it gave me a headache. Just make it through rehearsal, I told myself. And then I saw him. Ryder. At the back of the auditorium. Leaning against the curtain rig like he belonged there. Clipboard in hand. Black hoodie. Smugness practically radiating off him. “What the hell is he doing here?” I muttered under my breath. “Morning, Juliet,” he said without looking up. “Try not to fall off the stage today.” Ms. Langst
Kailee Bennett My plan for the day was simple: show up, fade into the background, and survive until lunch without anyone making any fat jokes about me. Charlotte was out sick, so I didn’t have my usual human shield. I avoided eye contact, kept my head down, and prayed to every deity that existed that any of the mean seniors that usually tormented me, especially Sienna wouldn’t notice me. So far, everything was going well. I only had one class before lunch. Drama class. Drama class was supposed to be optional. And yet there I was, sitting at the back, trying to blend into the ugly beige walls while half the class stretched like they were warming up for Broadway. Charlotte had told me it was chill—watch a few skits, maybe write a review, get easy credit. She forgot to mention it was a social battlefield. Especially when Sienna walked in, flanked by her Barbie gang. Blonde, devious, and always two seconds from ruining someone’s life. She spotted me and smiled. Not the
Kailee Bennett I hated moving. I hated the cardboard boxes, bubble wrap, and fake smiles even more. But mostly, I hated that I had to leave behind everything that felt like mine. I didn’t speak the entire car ride. My mom kept humming like she was in a sitcom montage. Meanwhile, I was being driven out of my old life and shoved into someone else’s. We finally arrived at what my mom called “our new home.” Holy shit. I stared at the house. No. Not a house. A compound. Stone walls. Massive glass windows. A fountain. A freaking fountain. “Is this a mansion or a museum?” I muttered. My mom ignored me and got out. I didn’t want to get out of the car. I stared at the new house like it might bite me. It was huge, clean, and annoyingly Pinterest-perfect. White shutters. Porch swing. Little stone path lined with flowers. The kind of house that whispered stable and happy. It made me want to scream. “Kailee, come on,” Mom said, beaming as she stepped out of the car. “Try to