로그인"Asher. Why aren’t you picking up?" I hiss for the umpteenth time. I’ve been ready for school for over twenty minutes, and still, no sign of my boyfriend. He’s always the one who drives me to school — ever since we started dating, he’s kept that routine religiously. But now, not only is he late, he’s not even answering. A simple text would’ve been enough.
Feeling disoriented, I give up and order a ride. By the time I reach school, the assembly is over and everyone’s already heading to class. "That’s her..." a junior whispers, but quickly looks away when my eyes meet hers. "She must have heard..." another voice murmurs by the lockers. A chill runs down my spine. “That’s weird,” I mutter under my breath. Maybe I’m overthinking. Still, as I head to my locker, people part like I’m contagious — their stares sharp enough to cut through me. “What is going on? Why are you all staring at me?” I snap, loud enough that they flinch. Mostly classmates, people I don’t even talk to. “Haters,” I mumble, slamming my books into my locker before heading to class. Alice — my best friend — is already seated at our desk. But as soon as I move toward her, the whispers grow louder, crawling under my skin. I drop beside her, forcing a shaky smile. “Is it just me, or is everyone staring at me today?” She gasps, eyes wide, and stands abruptly. “Catherine, you’re here!” She grabs my wrist and pulls me up before I can ask more, dragging me straight out of the room. I catch sight of a girl nudging another toward me before they both turn away. “What is going on? Did I mess up my makeup or something?” I pull out my phone, but Alice doesn’t stop until we’re inside the bathroom. She turns to me, pale and hesitant — the kind of look that makes my stomach drop. “Now you’re making me worried. What’s going on?” “Asher,” she blurts. “He cheated on you. With the new girl.” For a moment, I actually laugh. “This is a joke, right? A prank? Because I’m not falling for it. Tell Asher if this is his big idea of making me smile, it worked. I’m fine, okay? Even though my parents ditched me, I’m fine. You don’t have to do this to cheer me up.” “Your parents didn’t come back?” Alice asks softly. It suddenly feels suffocating. “Wait—no! No, he would never cheat on me. We’re happy. I talked to him yesterday, everything was fine. We made plans.” “Catherine…” Alice’s voice trembles. “Check his I*******m. The whole school knows. He kissed her at the assembly this morning.” My hands shake as I unlock my phone and open his profile. Maybe this is some kind of prank, maybe there’s a caption explaining everything — a surprise, a joke, something. But the illusion shatters instantly. The new upload hits like a slap: a romantic date at a garden, Asher’s hands cupping Jennifer White’s face — lips locked. Jennifer White. The new transfer blondie. The same girl who begged to join my cheer squad, and I turned her down because we were almost graduating. The same girl. The phone slips from my grip. “Catherine…” Alice whispers. I breathe in. Hard. The air feels too heavy to swallow. This can’t be. There has to be some kind of explanation. We were okay. Asher is better than this. I refuse to believe it. “Catherine, wait up!” Alice calls, but I’m already storming down the hallway, straight toward the boys’ locker room. I push the door open. The room falls silent. Conversations stop mid-sentence; a few guys look up — some with pity, others just curious. “Anyone seen Asher?” I demand. They exchange glances before one of them mutters, “The bleachers. He’s at the bleachers.” As I turn to leave, another voice hisses, “You shouldn’t have told her.” Alice catches up, trying to grab my hand. “Cat, slow down—” “I’m fine, Alice.” I pull my hand free. “I just need to sort things out with Asher. Probably a pretty big misunderstanding.” Misunderstanding. The word feels hollow. My better half mocks me: He was kissing her. A full-blown French kiss, Catherine. You think they’re cousins? I reach the bleachers. They’re empty at first glance — until my eyes climb to the last row. There he is. Hands tangled in the same brown hair I used to love running my fingers through. His mouth pressed against hers. “Asher!” My voice cracks through the air like glass. Both of them freeze. “Cat, calm down!” Alice pleads, gripping my wrist. “I am calm, Alice.” My voice trembles, not from calmness but from the rage clawing its way up my throat. “I just want to know what I did wrong. We were fine yesterday. We talked. We laughed.” I reach them. Her fingers are still shamelessly looped around his neck, lipstick smeared across his face — proof I wish I could unsee. “What happened, Asher?” My voice breaks. “You said your mom had guests over. You said you couldn’t come. And now you’re here—kissing her? What happened?” He just stares. Blank. Silent. “Say something, Asher! Why are you kissing her?” My eyes dart to Jennifer. “Why is her picture on your I*******m?” “Cat…” He exhales. “We need to talk.” “That’s what I’ve been saying!” My voice rises despite myself. “So talk! Tell me what I did wrong! We’ve been together for three years—three—and you’re throwing it away for her? For a girl you barely know?” Jennifer stands, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “Hey, Miss Hannah Montana. Hate to break it to you, but the world doesn’t revolve around you. Asher doesn’t love you anymore.” “That’s a lie…” My voice wavers. “Aw, princess lost her candy.” She smirks. “Stop crying, baby.” I turn to Asher, desperate. “Tell her to stop.” He looks away. “Let’s break up, Catherine.” The world goes still. “We’re done.” For a second, I can’t breathe. My gaze flickers from his blank expression to Jennifer’s smug, victorious smile. When she laces her fingers through his and brushes past me, my shoulder stings from the bump — but not as much as the hollow ache spreading through my chest. I stand there, frozen, as the truth sinks in. “Asher cheated…” The words scrape out of me like glass. Alice pulls me close, wrapping her arms around my trembling shoulders. “Catherine, you need to pull yourself together…” But I can’t. My voice breaks into her shirt. “He cheated on me. I loved him so much.”Dominic's Pov When things got so heavy that even breathing felt like work, the only thing I could think to do was go home.Patrick kept shading Catherine, saying things he had no right to say. I tried to ignore it. I really did. But something inside me snapped.I hit him.By the time I got back to the house, my hands were still shaking. I packed my bag, left a short note for Alice, and caught the next train to Grandma’s.After my parents’ divorce, she was the only place that still felt… safe. Stable. Like things hadn’t completely fallen apart yet. When my best friend started acting like shit and the girl I loved felt so far out of reach, her house was the only place I knew to run to.She welcomed me like always—then immediately put me to work in the kitchen.“Are you sure you coming here has nothing to do with your father?” she asked, handing me the salt.I put it back. “He’s not even in town.”“Business trip?”“I guess,” I said. Honestly, I had no idea. These days, he barely came h
Catherine PovTen minutes later, we were digging into the food Mom had ordered, and I tried keeping up with the conversation—though all I really wanted was to find a way out of the house.I’d planned this whole get-together around the idea that Dominic would be here.We never got the chance to talk at school. And even if we had, there was no privacy—with teachers and students everywhere.Well that was until the fight broke out and he left.The loud clinks of spoons against plates sounded like a bad ringtone, made worse by the way Mom couldn't even cut her chicken properly.“This is so yummy,” Alice complimented mom again.I smiled and shot my already horrified mother a look. “Of course.” I said. “My mom is an amazing chef.”That almost burned the world. Her eyes narrowed.I stuck my tongue out.Dad laughed.Mom whipped around to glare at Dad. He froze, muttering out an apology like he’d committed a crime.Sometimes, it’s scary to realize the kind of hold my mom had over him. Twenty
Catherine's PovTwo weeks Ago“You’ve made significant progress in just one week, Miss Catherine,” my therapist, Sarah, said during our seventh session.I kept count.Mom had promised therapy would only last a month. Four weeks. That was the deal.I nodded anyway.Sarah tilted her head slightly, studying my face like the answers to my problems were written somewhere between my eyebrows. Like if she stared long enough, she’d decode me.I looked away.The clock ticked softly on the wall.A week had passed. Somehow.Most of my time was spent in this room now—on the soft couch, under her calm voice, surrounded by tissues and neutral-colored pillows. The rest of my time was spent doing the things she assigned me.Clean your room.Write your thoughts.Try cooking.Do something with your hands.So I cleaned.I burned rice twice.I filled three notebooks with half-finished sentences and crossed-out feelings.I tried to follow every instruction like it was homework that decided my future.Beca
Catherine's PovThree Weeks AgoI love my parents. I really do.But sometimes, they make decisions about my life without even asking me—especially when they think they’re “helping.”“I’m not going.” I snapped, glaring at Mom. My chest felt tight. “I’m not.”She froze for a second, then softened and reached for my hands.I pulled away.Too close. Too much. I couldn’t breathe.“Catherine,” she said gently, “you haven’t been the same since Dominic went missing. You’ve changed. You barely talk. You barely eat. You look tired all the time.”I scoffed. “So? That doesn’t mean I’m broken.”“It means you’re hurting,” she replied. “And I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. That’s why I booked the session.”My laugh came out sharp. “A therapist?” I shook my head. “Wow. Okay. So now I’m a problem that needs fixing?”“That’s not what I—”“It’s always like this,” I cut in. “You decide things for me and expect me to just agree.”She opened her mouth again, but the words rushed out of me first
Catherine's PovDad’s face twisted in a full three sixty. I shifted my gaze from the unholy mess in the pot to him, and, weirdly, his expression was satisfying.I love my parents, but sometimes I feel like they think the world revolves around them.Mom jabbed Dad’s shoulder. “Babe, what’s wrong?” she asked, like the pasta she usually eats looked like this.I joined in. “What’s wrong, Dad?”He started sweating. “Nothing. I… uh…”“Babe, you said it tasted good,” Mom pressed.He swallowed nervously. “I did… I did eat it already.”“Dad… eat it up.”He shot me a pleading look. I shrugged and dumped the… monstrosity—not even worthy of the name pasta—back into the pot.The kitchen lightened a little, but the heat was still brutal.I fanned my face and glared at Mom. “Do you know how to cook, Mom?” I arched my brow.She finally seemed to realize the disaster she’d unleashed and shifted uncomfortably.“But you said it was okay,” she protested, hitting Dad’s chest. “How bad is it?”She marched
Catherine’s POVThe rush was finally over.I let out a long breath after the final wave to the officials, watching as the hotel management took over. My shoulders relaxed for the first time all day.“You did great, Miss Carson,” the principal said as we headed toward the school bus.She couldn’t hide her smile. Signing a million-dollar investment deal would do that to anyone.“Thank you, ma’am,” I replied, trying to sound calm.Even though part of me wanted to pretend my excitement was only about the event, I knew better.It wasn’t.I climbed into the bus and filled out the required forms, signing where I needed to before handing them back to her.“You could’ve done this at school,” she said.I shook my head. “I won’t be coming back today.”Her eyebrow lifted slightly.“We’re having a small dinner at home,” I added quickly. “I need to help my mom prepare.”She studied me for a second, then nodded.“Alright. Get some rest.”I dropped off shortly after, waved goodbye, and headed straigh







