Chapter eight: my favorite rumor

By Tuesday morning, the campus hallways buzzed like a hive. Whispers curled around Norah wherever she went, each one adding weight to the already suffocating attention.

“She doesn’t even wear makeup. Can you believe that?” a girl whispered as Norah passed.

“Yeah, and she still looks better than half the senior girls,” another added, half in awe, half in envy.

“I heard she turned down an acting gig in LA because she promised her mom she’d become a nurse,” someone else claimed, their tone dreamy, like they were repeating a fairy tale.

“She’s too pretty. Even Rose can’t compete with her.”

Norah gripped her books tighter, wishing the floor would open and swallow her whole. This kind of attention is the last thing I need in my life right now. She’d come here to learn, to focus, to survive on her scholarship—not to become the school’s favorite subject of gossip.

By the time she made it to lunch, her nerves were frayed. She slid her tray onto the table where Mary was already waiting, grinning like she’d just won the lottery.

“Well, well, well,” Mary sang, stabbing a grape with her fork. “Campus sweetheart finally joins me. Do you even know how many people are talking about you today?”

Norah groaned, setting her tray down. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m definitely starting.” Mary leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “One girl swore you don’t even use deodorant, like you’re too angelic to sweat. Another said Ivan smiled at you—smiled, Norah!—and now half the school thinks you’ve bewitched him.”

Norah’s face burned. “Mary, stop—”

“No, no, listen!” Mary slapped the table, laughing so hard the students nearby turned to look. “My favorite rumor? That you’re secretly royalty from another country and just hiding here as a nursing student. Can you imagine? Princess Norah in scrubs.”

Norah dropped her face into her hands, laughter spilling through her fingers. “You’re insane.”

Mary grinned, flashing a wink. “And you love me for it. Don’t bother denying.”

Norah shook her head, still laughing. Mary always had this way of breaking the weight in half. She’d crack a joke, toss her hair, and somehow make the pressure feel less like a weight. Even if sometimes, honestly, her teasing made Norah want to slide under the table and stay there.

Still, while she laughed with Mary, Norah felt it—that crawling heat on the back of her neck. Eyes. Too many of them. Watching her. Whispering. Waiting for her to go on a trip.

Meanwhile, somewhere else on campus, Rose slammed her locker shut. The bang echoed down the row, sharp enough to make Lila and Becca flinch. Neither girl dared to move away, though. Not when Rose’s jaw was set like that.

“Did you hear them?” Rose hissed, voice tight with rage. “Every hallway I walked down this morning, someone was talking about her. Her. Like she’s some kind of saint dropped from heaven.”

Becca fiddled with her hair nervously. “It’s just new-girl shine, Rose. They’ll get over it.”

“No,” Rose snapped, eyes sharp. “This isn’t just shine. She’s stealing everything. My attention, my status, my place in this school.”

Lila crossed her arms, trying to match Rose’s fire. “You’re still Rose. You’re untouchable. Everyone knows it.”

Rose gave a bitter laugh. “Tell that to the freshmen who can’t shut up about her ‘natural beauty’ or the idiots claiming even Ivan notices her.”

At the mention of Ivan, her mouth twisted. That single rumor was enough to ignite something feral in her chest. If Ivan—her Ivan, the one no girl dared even dream about—had so much as glanced at Norah, then this wasn’t just gossip. It was a war.

Rose leaned back against her locker, eyes narrowing as a memory flickered. Last year. A girl with too much confidence, too much shine. Rose had set her up so perfectly that by the time it was over, the poor girl was gone—transferred out, her reputation shredded.

A slow smile curved on Rose’s lips. “I know exactly what to do.”

Lila and Becca exchanged uneasy glances. “What are you thinking?”

Rose’s voice dropped, smooth and cold. “Friday. The library. I’ll make sure Norah’s there, alone. Then we plant what we need, make it look like she broke the rules—cheating, stealing, whatever sticks. One whisper to the right faculty member, and she’ll lose that precious scholarship before midterms.”

Becca’s jaw dropped. “That’s… brutal.”

Rose shrugged, lips curling. “Brutal works. Do you really want her taking my crown?”

Neither girl answered. They didn’t have to.

~~~~

Thursday night. The library was almost dead. Only a lamp or two on, the rest dark.

Rose waited by the door, scrolling through her phone. She pulled up Norah’s photo, held it out.

The guy beside her, tall, hoodie up. Didn’t say much. Just nodded once.

Rose tapped the screen with her nail. “Her. Don’t forget.”

He looked, shoved the phone back toward her. “Got it.” “She’s always early, always neat. I’ll make sure she’s the last one here on Friday night.”

The guy nodded, expression unreadable. “And you want her caught with… what, exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rose said smoothly. “Cheating notes, stolen test files, even pills. Whatever you can slip into her bag when she isn’t looking. The faculty doesn’t need the truth—they just need evidence.”

He studied it once, then slid it into his pocket like it was nothing. “Easy work,” he muttered.

Rose’s lips curved. “Good. By next week, she’ll regret ever stepping foot here. And everything will fall back where it belongs.”

But a shadow stirred close by—a student frozen in place, hearing every word. A student, hidden, frozen in place, had heard every single word. Her heart raced as Rose’s plan sank in.

Rose’s laugh rang down the hall, sharp enough to stick.

What she didn’t know—someone else was there. Tucked back in the shelves, frozen, phone gripped so tight their knuckles ached.

Her heart pounded too loud, too fast. Run? Call? Or just pretend they hadn’t heard a thing?

One truth pressed harder than fear: if she stayed quiet, Norah was finished.