LOGINThe weekend passes easily, and I manage to get some rest, helped in part by chatting with my new friend. It distracts me just enough to quiet everything else circling in my head. But Monday comes too quickly, and I hate it. I just want to stay in that stillness a little longer.School looks exactly the same. Students fill the hallways, laughing and weaving around each other like it isn’t Monday, like there’s nothing to dread. Lockers slam open and shut. Conversations overlap. And then there’s the group I should probably be avoiding, the one that’s been making my life difficult, but I don’t change direction, and neither do they.It’s… strange.Lately, they haven’t just passed by. They’ve gone out of their way to make things uncomfortable, to embarrass me whenever they can. So this, this quiet, is new.Still, I ignore it.Maybe they’ve decided to go back to pretending I don’t exist. That wouldn’t exactly help my plan, but I’ll deal with that later. It’s only Monday.I get to class and t
Your sneakers look fire, a message from an unknown number.When I finish reading it on my phone, I look up, but no one is watching me suspiciously. However, when I glance behind me, Devin, one of Owen’s friends, is staring directly at me, his short frame planted confidently, a cocky smile playing on his lips.After he greeted me, he waited for me to come in and sit down before taking the seat next to me. When I changed seats, he followed me around until others started coming in, and I had to stop. There were a few raised eyebrows, but no one questioned anything… I think.He didn’t speak to me again, but he was such a terrible artist that the teacher kept asking me to help him “find his inspiration.” And every time I did, he’d flash me this wide grin while I struggled through helping him.It was the worst class I’ve ever attended.I was sweating because I didn’t know what his next move would be, and my hands trembled slightly the entire time. I couldn’t come up with anything good for my
It’s been two days since the incident at school, two days since the threats, since my friends started ghosting me, and since that message from an unknown number appeared on my phone and then vanished into silence.Nothing has changed.I came to school Tuesday morning determined to fix things with the girls, ready to apologize if I had to, ready to smooth everything over. But they made their position clear almost immediately. They won’t talk to me unless I change my mind about the plan.Unfortunately for them, that isn’t going to happen.If anything, the threat should have been enough to scare me off. That’s probably what everyone expected. But stopping now would make me look weak, and I refuse to give anyone that satisfaction.Still, I haven’t had another opportunity to get under Owen’s skin since then. Not a single one. But I’m hopeful.Work has been crazy, too. I’m still training at Flavoury Bites, and it’s honestly more stressful than I expected. None of it is something I’m used to
The ride to my place is too quiet, the kind of silence that presses in on you, that makes your chest tighten. I can feel their eyes on me the entire way. It’s heavy and unblinking, but I don’t speak. Not with Luca in the car.When we finally pull up, everyone steps out except Luca. Mila waves at him, a soft smile on her face.“I’ll call you later,” she says.He nods, lingering for a moment before driving off.The moment the door closes behind us, the girls swarm in, full of questions and urgency. I hold up my hand, signaling for us to go to my room. What I need to say requires space. Privacy.As soon as the door clicks shut, their voices erupt.“Spill.”I take a deep breath and tell them everything. Every detail of my encounter with the girls, right up until Luca found me.When I finish, the room falls silent. They just stare at me, as if the words are too heavy to carry, too frightening to respond to.Finally, Star speaks. Her voice is calm but firm.“Okay. I’ll be the one to say it
My day goes on normally after that, until lunchtime, when I head to the restroom before going to get my food.When I finish and step out to wash my hands, I see him, he’s standing in front of a bathroom stall.My heart skips instantly. Somewhere along the way, my mind had buried the fact that I had a problem with someone. The fear I thought I’d shaken off rushes back all at once, pounding through my chest.He doesn’t do anything. He just stands there and stares at me, and somehow that makes it worse.I stay rooted to the spot, my thoughts spiraling. He’s in the girls’ bathroom. And he’s alone. Not with his crew.Eventually, he speaks.“Chloe-Anne Collins.” He says my full name like he expects me to answer.I don’t.“Cat cut your tongue?” he adds. “It couldn’t do that in class?”Still nothing. My mouth stays shut, heavy and useless, like it actually has been cut.“Don’t do that again in class,” he says quietly.I blink once. “Do what?” The words are meant to come out confident. But the
I step out through my broken doorway and head downstairs for school. I pass my parents in the living room without sparing them a glance. Somehow, they are always fighting and always in the same room at the same time, like conflict is the only thing holding them together.I hear them call my name, trying to talk to me, but I don’t respond, not after yesterday. It isn’t going to be that easy.The bus arrives, and I climb on without looking back. During the ride, I prepare myself over and over in my head. I’m not going to be scared today. I hold on to the same reckless energy I had last night, the one that doesn’t flinch.At school, I pass him in the hallway like I do every other day. I don’t react. I don’t look at him. I don’t do anything. If he does something in return, I don’t see it or hear it. I keep moving.I settle into class, and about ten minutes later, my friends rush in. They surround my desk almost immediately, all asking the same question.“What next?”I shake my head. I don
When I finish eating, I wait a little for my food to settle before making my way home. Outside, I glance down and notice a stain on my top, and I realize that despite how careful I was, I still managed to spill something on myself.When I get home, though, something feels off. Both of my parents’ c
My altercation with Owen yesterday scared me, shook me, even, but it also gave me the courage to keep going with my plan. It was working. If he hadn’t reacted at all, that would’ve felt like a complete failure.I’m in my room now. I only went downstairs once, around ten this morning, just long enou







