LOGINBy Wednesday I understood exactly how fast a rumor moves through eleven hundred people when Sable Winters is the one pushing it.
Small at first. Sideways looks in the hallway. A cluster of girls by my locker who went quiet the second I showed up. Thursday, Dana caught the actual version of the story and hauled me into the empty art room at lunch, arms crossed, ready to explode. "Sable's telling people you called the whole cheer squad a bunch of airheads who only made varsity because of who they're dating," she said. "Half the team believes her." "I never said that." "I know. But you dumped Gray Locke in front of the whole cafeteria, so right now you're the villain of Cedar Bluff High and nobody's giving you the benefit of the doubt." She dropped her arms. "What's going on with you? Weight loss. Skipping lunch. Disappearing for whole afternoons. Then this thing with Gray out of nowhere. Talk to me." My chest hurt with how much I wanted to. "I'm dealing with something. I can't talk about it yet." "Josie—" "Please. I'll tell you when I can." She let it go, though her face said she hated letting it go. Gray caught me at my locker after seventh period, and for one stupid second I hoped he'd come to talk it out. His eyes told me otherwise before he'd said a word. "You had your mom lie to me at the door last week," he said. "I came by, she said you weren't home. You were home. I saw your light on." "I wasn't feeling well." "You've said that forty times this semester and I believed you every single time, because I trusted you." He shook his head. "Now you humiliate me in front of the whole school and can't even give me a real reason. What happened?" I'd rehearsed this. The words came out anyway, tasting like poison the whole way. "I like someone else," I said. "Marcus. From chem." Disbelief, then something sharper. "You don't even know Marcus Diaz's last name." "I know it fine." "I know you, Josie. This isn't you." "Maybe you don't know me the way you think you do." Each lie dragged me further from anything I could take back later. "He notices things about me you never bothered to." "That's a lie and you know it." His voice cracked right on the last word. "You're twisting yourself in circles so you don't have to say the real reason. Fine. I'm done trying to figure you out." He walked off, shoulders squared the exact way they'd been squared the year after his mom's funeral, back when he didn't want anyone stopping him to ask how he was holding up. I stood there with the taste of my own lies stuck in my mouth. I'd wanted to protect him. Turned out I'd only found a slower way to gut him. My phone buzzed. A number I didn't know. UNKNOWN: did you really think Sable wouldn't find out what's actually wrong with you? see you at practice, sweetheart. I read it once. Read it again. Read it a third time, because my hands wouldn't stop shaking long enough for the first two to sink in.By Monday, somebody had decided Marcus and I were dating.I found out because Emma asked whether I was going to tell her myself or make her hear it from somebody in chemistry. We were standing outside English, and I was trying to find a pen in the bottom of my bag while people pushed past us into class. At first I thought she meant the argument with Grey. Enough people had seen us outside the auditorium on Friday that I wouldn't have been surprised if that had made its way around school too. Then Emma said Marcus's name, and I stopped digging through my bag.Apparently the story had improved over the weekend. Marcus had driven me home after rehearsal. We'd been spending every afternoon together. Someone had seen him carrying my sketchbook to his car on Friday, which was true, although the part where I'd forgotten it backstage hadn't survived. According to Emma, there was even a version where we'd kissed behind the auditorium. That one almost made me laugh. I asked where people found t
Grey was waiting outside the auditorium when I came out after rehearsal, which was strange enough that I stopped walking. He stood beside the trophy case with his backpack on the floor between his shoes and his phone in one hand. He'd left rehearsal nearly twenty minutes earlier. I'd watched him go. I had assumed he'd driven home, or gone to football practice, or decided he'd had enough of watching me forget lines for one afternoon. Instead, there he was, scrolling through something on his phone without actually moving his thumb. Marcus came through the doors behind me carrying the empty crate we'd spent most of rehearsal sorting. He asked if I wanted him to bring my bag out too, and I told him I already had it. He nodded, told me he'd see me Monday, then headed toward the parking lot. I watched him wrestle the crate into the back seat of his car before I looked at Grey again. He had put his phone away.For a second, neither of us said anything. I wondered if this was finally it. Maybe
By Thursday, the crate Marcus had rescued from me the day before was back beside the costume rack, filled with plastic goblets, fake fruit and two silver candlesticks that looked expensive until you picked them up. Mr Alvarez wanted everything separated before rehearsal started, so I sat on the floor with masking tape stuck to one knee and wrote labels while Marcus carried things from one end of the auditorium to the other. He hadn't asked why I was sitting or why I'd stopped carrying the boxes myself. He'd simply dropped a marker beside me, muttered that my handwriting was less offensive than his, and gone back for another load. I liked him a little for that, though I wasn't sure whether I liked him or just liked not having to explain myself.When he returned with three fake swords balanced against his chest, he nodded toward the piles around me. "Where do these go?""Props.""Everything in here is a prop.""The cabinet marked weapons.""There is a weapons cabinet?""Behind the curtai
The nurse found a vein on the second try."Sorry.""It's okay."It wasn't her fault. My veins had started playing games months ago.She taped everything down, checked the line once more, then smiled the way hospital nurses always seemed to."I'll be back in a little while."The curtain slid shut behind her.Mom pulled her chair closer."You want the blanket?"I nodded.She tucked it over my legs like she used to when I was little and fell asleep on the sofa during movie nights. Back then she'd kiss my forehead and tell me to go upstairs before I caught a cold.Funny what mothers never stop doing."You don't have to stay awake," she said."I know.""You always try.""I don't like sleeping here.""You think something bad will happen if you close your eyes."I looked over.She wasn't asking.She already knew."I just..."The words refused to line up."I hate waking up and forgetting where I am."Mom reached over and rubbed circles across the back of my hand."I know."For a while all we
Tuesday started the way it always did.Mom knocked once before opening my bedroom door."You awake?""I am now.""You've got twenty minutes.""I know."She didn't remind me where we were going.She never did anymore.She simply left the door half open and headed downstairs.That was our routine.The less we said about Tuesdays, the easier they were to survive.I sat on the edge of the bed for a while, staring at the hoodie hanging over my desk chair.Gray had left it at my house last winter after helping Dad shovel snow. I'd washed it twice since then. It still smelled faintly like the detergent his mum always bought.I almost folded it into my wardrobe.Instead, I pulled it on.It was easier than thinking.---School looked exactly the same.The brick walls.The flag moving lazily above the entrance.Mrs. Dawson directing traffic in the drop-off lane like she did every morning.Funny how places stayed the same while everything inside them changed.I reached my locker just as the warn
Gray almost made it to the parking lot before Sable caught up to him."Hey. You forgot your water bottle."He looked down. She was right. He took it from her. "Thanks.""No problem."She could have peeled off there and let that be the end of it. Instead they ended up walking the same direction anyway, neither one saying much for a minute. The evening smelled like wet grass, and somewhere behind the football field a mower droned on and on without ever seeming to finish."You've been quiet lately," Sable said.He shrugged. "Guess so.""My brother gets like that too.""You have a brother?""Older one.""Does he talk when something's wrong?""He does the opposite. Goes completely silent."Gray laughed a little, short and quiet. "Sounds familiar.""Yeah, I figured."Neither of them said anything else until they got to the bike racks. Sable rested a hand on the col







