LOGINIt’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’ cars are parked outside. That’s strange, they’re rarely back this early.I walk toward the entrance, and suddenly everything makes sense. They cut their holiday short because they were fighting again. Not that they even went to the same place in the first place.“You’re so dumb, oh my God, I wish I could leave your sorry ass,” my mom shouts from the living room.“What’s stopping you then?” my dad yells back. “Who’s holding you captive? Fucking leave if you want to.”“So you can run to court and take my money? I’ll be damned.”“Who wants your money? I’ve got mine. And I thought you were staying for your daughter,” my dad says, just as I step into the living room.The timing is almost funny.I
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 enough to grab breakfast, a bowl of cereal, and cold milk, same as always. It’s two in the afternoon, and I’m still here, lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to come up with my next move. So far, I’ve got nothing.I don’t want a repeat of the hallway encounter. That felt too subtle, too easy to dismiss. This time, I need it to be obvious. I need other people to notice. I need him to react differently, not just watch and decide to drop it like it doesn't matter. The only idea I’ve managed to circle back to is starting an argument with him in the hallway, over anything. But that could go wrong so fast. What if he retaliates immediately? What if he turns it on me before I even get my p







