CHAPTER NINE The Version of Me They Don’t Know

Maya hadn’t slept.

The anonymous message looped through her mind all night like a broken alarm. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that hallway at Lincoln South—the fists, the faces, the fallout. That version of her still haunted the shadows, begging to be unseen.

Now, wrapped in a thick cardigan, barefoot on her aunt’s back porch with a steaming mug of ginger tea, she sat listening to the morning.

It was too quiet.

Her phone buzzed again.

Zane 🖤

“You okay?”

“I mean, like… actually okay. Not fake okay.”

She smiled, barely.

You don’t have to carry this alone.

That’s what he said last night.

She hadn’t answered then. She didn’t know how.

Now, she typed back:

Maya:

Still figuring that out. But thanks for staying. I needed it.

Another buzz.

Zane 🖤:

You don’t scare me, Maya.

Even if you tried.

That made her smile—this time for real.

Her aunt slid open the porch door behind her. Deedee was in her scrubs, holding car keys and a half-eaten granola bar.

“I saw the video,” she said, blunt and breathless.

Maya stiffened.

“I thought we left that girl behind in Port Haven.”

Maya didn’t reply.

Her aunt sighed. “You’re not a child anymore. But you need to stop letting anger write your story. You’re better than that.”

“I wasn’t angry,” Maya said. “I was tired.”

Deedee blinked, caught off guard by the steel in her voice.

“I was tired of being talked down to. Tired of hiding. That fight didn’t define me. But it happened. And it’s part of the reason I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not anymore.”

Her aunt opened her mouth—then closed it. For once, she had no reply.

She just nodded, slowly, and walked away.

That was new.

⸻

Later that afternoon, Maya sat cross-legged on her bed with Kennedy on FaceTime and Zane texting in the group chat they’d secretly created—Operation Wipe the Gossip Off the Map 💅.

Kennedy was chewing gum aggressively. “Okay, so far, Bella’s still acting smug, and no one’s said anything to Coach yet.”

“She won’t risk her own spot on the squad,” Maya said.

“True,” Kennedy muttered. “But I want to wipe that little smirk off her face.”

Zane’s message popped in:

Zane:

School grapevine says she’s planning to “expose” you during cheer practice tomorrow.

Maya’s stomach flipped.

Kennedy rolled her eyes. “Let her try. She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with.”

Maya went quiet.

“Hey,” Kennedy said. “Whatever happened at your last school… it doesn’t change who you are here. Got it?”

Maya met her friend’s gaze on the screen.

“I just want people to know me, not the version someone edited into a thirty-second video.”

“Then tell them,” Kennedy said. “Before Bella does.”

⸻

The next day at Ridgeway, the tension was thick. Whispers followed Maya through the hall like smoke. The usual crowd at the lockers stopped talking when she walked by. A junior flinched when she reached into her backpack too quickly.

It was exactly what she feared.

Still, she walked with her head high.

Zane found her by the vending machines, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “But I need to.”

He nodded, pulling something from his pocket. A small, silver chain with a moon pendant.

“I found this when I was cleaning out my brother’s old stuff. He used to wear it when he felt like the world was too loud. Said it reminded him that even darkness passes.”

She looked at the charm, heart swelling.

He handed it to her wordlessly.

She slipped it around her neck and closed her hand over it. “Thank you.”

Then she stepped into the gym.

⸻

Cheer practice was louder than usual.

The team circled around Coach Martinez, bouncing on the balls of their feet, while Bella leaned against the wall with her arms crossed like she was the queen of something.

Maya walked to the center of the gym.

Coach raised an eyebrow. “Something to say, Maya?”

Maya nodded.

“I know some of you have seen a video going around,” she said, voice steady but loud enough to echo. “It’s from my last school. And it’s real. I got into a fight. I got suspended. I was angry, I was hurting, and I snapped.”

Some girls whispered. Bella smirked.

Maya took a breath.

“But what that video doesn’t show is that I had been bullied for months or how I had to start over five times in three years. It doesn’t show how hard I’ve worked to be someone I could actually look in the mirror and not flinch at.”

The gym was quiet now.

She glanced at Kennedy, who gave her a subtle nod.

“So if you’re looking for a perfect cheerleader with zero baggage and a flawless past—sorry. That’s not me. But if you’re looking for someone who will fight like hell for this team, someone who knows what it means to fall and still show up—I’m already here.”

For a second, no one moved.

Then Kennedy clapped.

Once.

Then again.

Another girl joined.

And another.

Even Coach nodded slowly, her expression unreadable but not cold.

Bella rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall. “Touching speech. But it still doesn’t erase the fact that she hit someone.”

Coach held up a hand. “Enough, Bella.”

Bella blinked. “But—”

“We don’t judge what people have done in other gyms. We judge how they show up in this one. And today, Maya showed up.”

Bella’s jaw clenched, but she said nothing else.

As the girls started breaking into stretches, Kennedy walked past Maya and whispered, “That was badass.”

Maya exhaled. “I was shaking the whole time.”

“You still owned it.”

From across the gym, Zane peeked in through the doorframe. Their eyes met.

He didn’t wave. Didn’t nod.

Just smiled.

And it said more than any message ever could.

⸻

Later that night, Maya sat on her bedroom floor, still wearing the moon pendant, her heart finally… light.

Her phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number:

You think this is over?

She stared at it.

Then typed back:

Maya:

No. But now I’m ready.

She blocked the number without flinching.

For once, the past didn’t get to write the ending.

She did.

⸻