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Pressure points
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2025-12-30 17:52:04The paper burned against my finger even through the thin fabric of my bag.
I hadn’t opened it again. I didn’t need to. The shape of it was enough—folded once, edges sharp, sitting wrong against the curve of my hips as I walked. Every step down the hallway made it knock lightly against my side, like it was reminding me it hadn’t gone anywhere. Talia spotted me before I reached the corner. She lifted her hand, mouth already opening with whatever sarcastic comment she’d prepared, but it died halfway when she saw my face. “Okay,” she said slowly. “What happened.” I stopped in front of her locker. My hand went to the metal without thinking, palm flat, grounding myself in the cold. “There was something in my locker,” I said. Her smile vanished. “What kind of something?” I slid my backpack off my shoulder and unzipped it just enough to pull the folded paper out. I didn’t look at it, I held it between my fingers like it was dirt. Talia took it from me, unfolded it, scanned the words. Her reaction wasn’t what I expected. She snorted. “That’s it?” she said. I blinked. “What do you mean, that’s it?” She folded it back up and shoved it into my bag, pushing the zipper closed with more force than necessary. “That’s pathetic. Anonymous notes are for cowards and people who peaked in middle school.” My chest tightened. You’re not even curious who—” “No,” she cut in. “Because whoever it is wants you to be. That’s the point.” I stared at her. She leaned back against the lockers, crossing her arms. “Nova, listen to me. You’ve spent years letting people decide how much space you’re allowed to take up. This?” She tapped my bag. “This is just noise trying to get that power back.” My throat burned. “It didn’t feel like noise.” “Of course it didn’t,” she said more gently. “You’re just adjusting. That’s all.” A group of girls walked past us, their voices dipping as they looked over us. One of them whispered something behind her hand. I felt it like a tug, sharp and familiar. Talia followed my gaze and scoffed. “Oh please. Whispering behind their hands like it’s 2012? That’s the level you’re letting mess with your head?” I swallowed. “I don’t want to deal with this today.” “Good,” she said instantly. Because you’re not.” She grabbed my wrist and started steering me down the hall. “We’re ditching last period.” My eyes widened. “We can’t just—” “We absolutely can,” she said. “I have a standing appointment with self-care when the world gets annoying.” She pulled me through the doors and out into the sunlight before i could argue. *** The nail salon smelled like acetone and sugar scrub. The sharpness of it made my nose wrinkle as soon as we stepped inside, but the warmth hit me a second later, heavy and calming. Soft music played from somewhere overhead. Water bubbled gently in the foot baths. “Two pedis,” Talia said to the woman at the counter. “No talking unless it’s compliments.” I let myself be guided into the chair, my movements slow, like my body was still waiting for permission to relax. When I slid my feet into the water, I hissed quietly. “Too hot?” Talia asked. “No,” I said. “Just… unexpected.” She smiled. “Story of your life.” The chair vibrated softly beneath me, and I sank back before I could stop myself. My shoulders dropped an inch. Then another. I stared at my knees while the technician knelt in front of me, her hands efficient and gentle as she adjusted my feet. The sensation grounded me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. Talia leaned back beside me, eyes closing. “Now,” she said, “talk.” I hesitated. “There’s nothing to say.” “That’s never true.” I exhaled. “I hate that part of me still cares. Like I’ve done all this work, and one stupid piece of paper can still get under my skin.” She opened one eye. “That’s not weakness. That’s history.” I watched the water swirl around my ankles. “What if it doesn’t stop?” “Then we ignore it harder,” she said. “You don’t negotiate with insecurity. Yours or anyone else’s.” I smiled faintly despite myself. The technician lifted one of my feet, resting it against her thigh, and began working the file along my heel. The scrape was rhythmic, steady. Predictable. My breathing slowed without me noticing it happened. Talia nudged my knee lightly. “You’re different, you know.” I glanced at her. “Different how?” She shrugged “You don’t shrink anymore. You still feel things, but you don’t fold.” That sat heavy in my chest. “Does it show?” I asked. She grinned. “Oh yeah. People don’t like it.” I closed my eyes yes, letting the chair hum beneath me, the water warm, the moment quiet. For the first time since opening my locker, my mind went still. And that was when my phone buzzed in my bag. Once. I didn’t reach for it. Twice. I opened my eyes, heart picking up again, slow but deliberate. Talia raised a brow. “You gonna check that?” I hesitated. Then I shook my head. “No.” She smiled, approving. “Good.” The technician finished my other foot, patting them dry before reaching for the polish samples. Rows and rows of color fanned out in front of me. “Which one?” she asked. I looked down at the choices—soft, bold, neutral, bright. I pointed out without overthinking. “That one.” I set my foot back on the technician’s leg—then the door swung open.
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The small bell above the nail salon door rang, sharp and sudden, and my shoulders jumped up without me thinking. A sweet, heavy perfume rushed into the room, cutting through the chemical smell I’d just gotten used to. It made my nose twitch. I kept my eyes down, watching the tiny brush move carefully across my last toe. But I knew the moment they walked in — Cassidy Chen and her group of girls. The room felt smaller the second they stepped in, noise shifting around them without anyone saying a word. I gripped the armrests tighter. Don’t look up. Don’t— “Nova?” Her voice hit like a tap on a bruise. I flinched, my foot shifting. The line of dark red polish smudged in an instant. The nail tech sighed in that sharp way adults do when they’re annoyed but trying not to show it. She grabbed a cotton ball and gently wiped at the mistake. “Oh my god,” Cassidy was closer now. “I almost didn’t recognize you—” She stopped. Her voice changed. Softer, maybe. “You look different.” My thr
He left scars, I build fire Pressure points
The paper burned against my finger even through the thin fabric of my bag.I hadn’t opened it again. I didn’t need to. The shape of it was enough—folded once, edges sharp, sitting wrong against the curve of my hips as I walked. Every step down the hallway made it knock lightly against my side, like it was reminding me it hadn’t gone anywhere.Talia spotted me before I reached the corner.She lifted her hand, mouth already opening with whatever sarcastic comment she’d prepared, but it died halfway when she saw my face.“Okay,” she said slowly. “What happened.”I stopped in front of her locker. My hand went to the metal without thinking, palm flat, grounding myself in the cold.“There was something in my locker,” I said. Her smile vanished. “What kind of something?”I slid my backpack off my shoulder and unzipped it just enough to pull the folded paper out. I didn’t look at it, I held it between my fingers like it was dirt. Talia took it from me, unfolded it, scanned the words
He left scars, I build fire Not yours anymore
“Report it,” Talia said , pacing the bedroom with her phone clutched tight like a grenade. “He can’t just post that. You could report it.”I didn’t move. I sat at the edge of her bed, legs bouncing, heart cold. “No. Let it stay up.”Talia froze mid-step. “Are you insane?”I looked up slowly, my voice low but steady. “Let them talk. Let them see. The version of me they want to laugh at… she doesn’t exist anymore.”Talia blinked, stunned. “Okay, wow. Who are you and what did you do with Nova Carter?”“I’m done playing nice,” I muttered. “He’s poked the bear one too many times.”Talia sat beside me, brushing her auburn curls behind one ear. “You know Ryder’s going to see it, right? Half the school’s already sharing it.”I paused, anxiety twisting through my chest. “Let him. He doesn’t care what people think.”“But you do,” she said gently.I nodded once. “Not anymore.”It was a lie. Of course I cared. But I’d bled enough in private. Cried enough under covers. Starved enough dreams.If th
He left scars, I build fire Let him burn
My feet froze as Jace stepped fully into the doorway, sunlight catching on the sharp lines of his lean body. It hit his hazel eyes just right, turning them almost gold—but there was nothing warm in them. His jaw clenched. His eyes burned. And his stare was locked on Ryder’s retreating back.I could feel the shift in the room, like the moment right before a downpour. Thick air. A hush before the thunder.“Since when,” Jace said tightly, “do you talk to him?”I gathered my books slowly, not looking at him. “Since it became a school assignment. Don’t make it a thing.”“It already is a thing, Nova,” he snapped. “You don’t even know him. That guy’s bad news.”I met his glare. “So was being dumped because I gained fifteen pounds. Funny how I survived that.”His face twisted like I’d slapped him. “That’s not what it was about—”“Oh, so it wasn’t about me not being good enough to stand beside the school’s favorite golden boy? Or was it the stretch marks? The soft stomach? Remind me, Jace.”He
He left scars, I build fire When trouble has a name
My hands trembled in my lap, fingers digging into the fabric of my jeans as I clenched my fists. It wasn’t Jace. Not anymore. It was him—Ryder Black.He was a storm wrapped in denim and shadows, his eyes a deep golden blaze that had seen straight through me in the gym. Like he knew. Like he’d been there. My throat dried up.“Ryder Black?” I whispered, barely managing the name.Talia leaned in with a dramatic roll of her eyes, her thick curls bouncing. “Transfer. Rich troublemaker. Expelled from two schools. Rumor has it he broke a guy’s jaw with one punch, and his dad paid off the principal. Now he’s Crestwood’s problem.”I blinked at her. “And he’s in my class?”“More than that,” she said darkly. “He’s in every class.”I laughed nervously. “Well, that’s not terrifying.”Talia leaned back in her chair, arms folded, lips pursed. “Just stay away. He’s the kind of boy that doesn’t come with warning labels. He is the warning.”But she was wrong.Ryder didn’t feel like a warning.He felt l
He left scars, I build fire Walk like fire
I didn’t expect the crowd outside Crestwood’s gym to fall silent when I walked past, but they did. I heard a can drop. Shoes scuffed the tile floor as necks turned and eyes locked on me — not with mockery this time, but something far more dangerous: curiosity.“Nova… you look like someone who eats heartbreak for breakfast,” Talia muttered beside me, her voice a mix of admiration and disbelief. She nudged me with her elbow, flashing a grin. “He’s staring.”I didn’t need her to say who.Jace.He stood near the vending machine, flanked by two basketball teammates, trying too hard to look indifferent. His dark hair was buzzed shorter than I remembered, but the same cocky confidence clung to him — until our eyes met. His grip tightened around a soda can, jaw twitching slightly.It was petty, but I smiled. Not for him. For me.I tugged at the hem of my new denim jacket — cropped, cinched at the waist — a far cry from the oversized hoodies I used to hide behind. My wavy brown hair, now cut t
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