012

ROSE

“Don’t come near me.”

I pulled the blanket up to my chest like it was a shield and stared at Derek from across the bed.

He looked at me like I had just told him to sleep in the washing machine.

“I wasn’t planning to,” he said, slipping his phone on the nightstand like he had better things to worry about than me.

“Good,” I replied, dragging the pillow closer. “Because I mean it. If your toe crosses this invisible line…” I made a straight line in the air between us, “I will scream.”

He didn’t even look my way. He was already lying down, one hand behind his head, eyes closed like he was bored of my entire existence.

“Do you always talk this much before bed?” he mumbled.

“Yes,” I snapped. “Especially when I’m forced to sleep beside a cold, rude, abs-showing, zero-emotions type of man.”

“Great,” he muttered, still not opening his eyes. “Then maybe if you keep talking, I’ll fall asleep faster.”

I scoffed and turned the other way. “Jerk.”

“Loudmouth.”

The silence that followed was thick. I could hear the slow ticking of the clock, and maybe even his breathing. I wasn’t sure if I was mad or just really uncomfortable.

My back was stiff, eyes wide open.

I couldn’t sleep.

I was too aware of him. Too aware that this wasn’t home. That I was lying in bed beside someone who made it very clear that this was fake. That I was a problem.

And yet… somehow, it still hurt.

---

The smell of burnt toast pulled me out of sleep.

I groaned, turning over and hitting something warm.

My eyes flew open.

Derek.

His arm was stretched across the bed… dangerously close to my waist.

What the actual—

I rolled out of bed like a ninja, landing on the floor with a loud thump.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes like he had just woken from a peaceful nap in a flower field.

“You okay down there?” he asked, voice rough and deep.

“Your hand was on my side!” I snapped, standing up and dusting my pants like I’d touched something dirty.

“Didn’t know your side was cursed,” he muttered, swinging his legs off the bed. “I was asleep.”

“Well, sleep with your limbs tied next time.”

“Next time?” he smirked. “So you’re planning to sleep beside me again?”

I stared at him for a full second before storming off into the bathroom.

---

I walked down to the dining area after getting dressed, only to see the table already set.

Or should I say… attacked.

The chairs weren’t straight. A piece of toast was on the floor. A knife was sitting in the butter tub like someone got tired halfway through.

And of course, they were all there.

Jennifer.

Oscar’s mom, Lauren.

Derek’s mom, Avery.

Even Oscar, sitting like a fake prince, legs crossed.

Their heads turned as I entered.

Their eyes rolled.

Their silence was loud.

“Good morning,” I said, choosing not to show them I noticed their long stares.

“Hmm,” Jennifer replied, sipping from her cup with both pinkies up like she was born in Buckingham Palace.

I walked over to the table and sat down on the empty chair beside Derek, who was focused on his phone.

Lauren glanced at me over the rim of her glasses.

“I hope you slept well. You didn’t keep Derek awake with all your midnight stories, did you?”

I smiled sweetly. “Oh no, I was too busy dodging his limbs.”

Jennifer snorted. “Some people talk too much.”

“Some people talk too loud,” I shot back.

The air went still.

Oscar chuckled under his breath and cleared his throat when Lauren gave him a look.

Avery, who hadn’t said anything yet, finally spoke.

“Rose, you’ve gotten very bold.”

I took a bite of toast and spoke with the driest tone I could find. “It happens when people keep poking at you with fake smiles and backhanded compliments. Builds character.”

Jennifer shifted in her seat.

Lauren frowned. “Are you saying we’re rude?”

“Did I say that?” I tilted my head innocently. “Or are you just hearing what you already know?”

Derek coughed to hide his laugh.

I didn’t look at him.

I kept eating and let them look. They should stare, the should hate me if they want to. I wasn't going to act small anymore.

The table grew quieter. Everyone was suddenly too busy eating.

Derek leaned in just a little.

“You alright?”

I glanced at him, then looked away. “Perfect. Just living my best breakfast dream.”

He hummed. “You were different today.”

“I got tired of playing the humble guest role.”

He nodded, then said, “You were kind of scary.”

“Good.”

After breakfast, Jennifer stood up and stretched.

“Well, we should get going. It’s been a *long* night,” she said with extra emphasis, staring at me like I ruined her dreams.

Lauren stood too. “Yes, I can’t imagine what Derek is thinking… living with someone like—”

I dropped my spoon with a loud clink.

She paused.

I stood.

“If you’re about to say ‘someone like me,’ go ahead and say it. Don’t mumble. You seem brave enough to whisper behind your glass of orange juice, Lauren. Why not speak up now?”

Her face turned a weird shade of red.

Oscar pressed his lips together.

Even Avery looked surprised.

Derek didn’t stop her.

Nobody did.

So I kept going.

“You don’t know me. You just assumed. But if I’m such a problem, maybe stop coming around. Problem solved.”

Jennifer scoffed. “You think being rude makes you better?”

“No,” I said calmly. “But it stops people like you from thinking they can walk all over me.”

Silence.

Just plain awkward silence.

Then Lauren stood up. “Let’s go.”

They filed out one by one.

Jennifer bumped into my shoulder on the way out.

Lauren didn’t even say goodbye.

Oscar gave me a strange look half impressed, half worried and left last.

The door closed behind them with a soft click.

And I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I turned to go back upstairs when Derek spoke.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

I froze. “What?”

He was leaning on the wall now, arms folded.

“You didn’t have to argue. They’re not going to change.”

“Good,” I replied, turning back around. “Then I won’t either.”

He stared at me for a second too long.

Then he smiled. Just a little.

I blinked.

Was that a smile?

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said, turning toward the kitchen. “I just realized you’re not as soft as I thought.”

“Thanks?”

“Not a compliment.”

I rolled my eyes and started up the stairs again, just as my phone buzzed.

I stopped.

Unknown Number:

“You shouldn’t have spoken to them like that. You don’t know what you’ve done.”

My blood ran cold.

I looked around.

No one was near me.

No one saw the screen.

But something about that message… didn’t feel right.

My fingers trembled slightly as I locked my phone and shoved it into my pocket.

Who sent that?

Why now?

And what did they mean… “You don’t know what you’ve done”?