LOGINSydney
Two days after I had ketchup stuck to my butt, the gossip grew louder. No one whispered anymore or tried to hide their mouth when they spoke, or cared if I was right there. “I still can’t believe she’s Brooklyn Prescott’s sister.” “Yeah, talk about differences. Are you sure they’re actually related? They need to ask their mom some questions. “ “No wonder Brooklyn’s the cheer squad captain. She’s way better. Prettier.” “Too bad she’s not dating Tyler. They’d have been a perfect match.” “You mean yet.” “Hey, fuck off!” Maeve yelled, even though swear words weren’t allowed on school grounds. And me? I just slung my backpack tighter over my shoulder, head low, walking to my locker, hoping to get through the day without running into Tyler. “Sydney, don’t listen to them.” Maeve said as I punched my locker code and opened it. “So what? I wear earplugs to school now?” Maeve relaxed on one foot. “I don’t like your tone.” I turned to her, catching that look she always gave me whenever I started digging my own grave. “What?” “They’re wrong about you, Syd. Brooklyn isn’t better than you. If anything, you’re better than her in ways they’re trying to suppress.” I scoffed. “People would pay millions to see Brooklyn’s thighs if it were in a museum.” Maeve shot me a look like she wanted to lay me on the ground, sit on my back and spank me. “Look, you really shouldn’t let what people think and say about you get to you, Sydney. You’re beautiful the way you are. You’re perfect.” She said. “You shrink every time you listen to what they say. And I don’t like it.” I swallowed, my gaze faltering. I really wanted to believe her. I really did. But as the day went by, it was getting harder and harder to even listen to words like that. Brooklyn had stayed true to her word and barely looked at me at school. She now kept to herself and move around her clique more. It was almost like the whispers had gotten to her head. And once, I’d heard her snicker when Tyler made a joke relating me to B.O.B. When I looked at her with surprise, she flipped her hair. “It’s just a joke, Sydney. Don’t think much of it,” she said, not even looking at me. I was just about to leave when I heard her turn to her friend. “She takes things too seriously.” It was like a switch had been flipped in Brooklyn’s head. 'She takes things too seriously.' Really? My heart had dropped to the ground right there and shattered into a million pieces. I cried into my pillow that night. And once more, I was alone. Except Maeve, who forcefully pulled me out of my head. “But at least you’ll come to the Halloween party at Michael’s house?” she asked. Halloween party—tomorrow night. “No,” I slammed my locker shut. “Why?” Maeve almost shrieked. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” she whined as we walked to class. “Everyone will be talking about it, you don’t want to miss it.” I stopped and turned to her. “Two reasons, Maeve. One, I hate Halloween. And two, I’m not about to squeeze this body into some character costume and be the clown of the party.” “Sydney, stop that.” Maeve begged. “I don’t want to go alone again this year. I promise I’ll be with you the entire time. I won’t let anyone say a bad word to you.” "Besides, it's your chance to finally meet people." Finally, I sighed. Maeve wasn't going to let this go anyway. “Alright, fine.” “Yay!” she squealed. I looked over her shoulder, and I met Tyler’s gaze. He’d been staring. ***** Before I could even blink, Maeve had pulled her makeup bag to my house, climbed up the stairs to my room, and sat me down in front of the mirror. “Alright, pick one costume.” She said, all giddy. I looked down at the options she’d given me. And my stomach knotted. There was Tinkerbell, Te Fiti, and then Velma from Scooby doo. I wanted to run away from the room. “Come on, we don’t have all day.” Maeve said, already opening her concealer. “Can’t I just be Sydney?” She raised a brow. “You are Sydney. But why deprive the world of seeing you in some sexy outfit for one night? And a little bit of fuck you to those monkeys at school.” I smiled a little, my eyes dropping to the options once more. If only there was some kind of charm to ward off Tyler Sinclair. I’d have dressed as a shaman. “I guess Velma.” “Yes!” she silently rejoiced. “I was scared you were going to choose Te Fiti. I’d have given up.” Honestly, I almost wished I had. By the end of our preparation, I was dressed in Velma’s orange turtle neck that nearly covered her knee-length skirt, her orange socks and even red shoes. And Maeve had even gone the extra mile to get me a bob wig and oversized glasses. It almost felt…comfortable. Still, I tugged at the sweater. “It’s too tight, Maeve.” “No, it’s not. Your boobs are fine, Syd,” she said in that tone that meant she knew exactly what I was thinking. “Your body is part of what makes you beautiful. You need to stop maltreating it because of what Tyler or whoever shithead at school says.” She added. Then she bounced to my front, grinning with a glittery microphone in her hand. “How do I look?” My eyes took in her K-pop idol look—mini skirt, glitter tights, structured jacket over a tiny crop top, bold glitter makeup that screamed notice me. But in a good way. Overall, Maeve was beautiful, even though she’d exaggerated the K-pop thing a little. I almost always forgot that she was half Korean. “Perfect.” I said with a smile, wishing I was as slim as she was. “Yay!” she squealed and threw her arms around me. “You’re gorgeous, Sydney. I’m so glad you’re coming with me.” I wasn’t even given a chance to wish Tyler a sprained ankle, so he didn’t make it to the party when the car stopped in front of the brightly lit house with music blasting through the walls. And before I could take off my red shoes and bolt down the road, Maeve grabbed my hand and dragged me across the lawn. “Wow.” “Oh my. Is that Brooklyn’s sister?” Some guys dressed as zombie football players outside the house stared, as we approached the house. Maeve didn’t even wait. She pushed the door open, and I saw the largest number of teenagers I’d ever seen in one room before. People dressed as princesses, zombies, the grim reaper, angels, even fruits were scattered all over the place, vibing to the music. I suddenly felt exposed—cold even, as goosebumps traced their way up my spine. “Come on.” Maeve pulled me forward. Everyone turned and stared. And somehow I could hear their comments over the loud music. I tried to tug my skirt down a little more, but somehow it felt tighter than the socks. “Everyone is here already.” Maeve said over the music. “Let’s go get something to drink.” I tried to follow her behind, I swear. But when you have a body like mine, it’s hard to move freely without pushing people. “Maeve?” I called, adjusting my glasses. But as I lifted my head to search for her through the crowd, I bumped into someone, nearly spilling their drink. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” I apologized, turning to the person. My gaze met Tyler’s. His eyes dragged over me. Then his lips parted slowly. “Damn.”SydneyClasses passed in an actual blur.Not because they were exciting. But because nobody cared about how the president won the election six years ago. Or how the immune system would fight when it realizes we have eyes.And by lunchtime, every lesson had basically given up.Teachers looked tired, students looked possessed. And the entire school seemed to be counting down until tip-off, like it was the only thing keeping us alive.And if you asked me what I learned today? I couldn’t tell you a single thing.All I knew was somehow, I survived sitting in front of Dean for three straight periods while he spent most of the time bragging to a girl who was obviously waiting for him to ask her out.By the time the bell rang, my ears physically hurt.Goosebumps still crawled up my skin in irritation as everyone spilled into the hallway.And then somehow by sundown, I found myself standing in Maeve’s yellow bedroom.In front of her mirror.Wearing Lakeview’s jersey, which I’d stuck in the da
Tyler“Your dad won’t be able to make it tonight.” Mom said that morning, a glass of wine balanced between her fingers. “He had an emer—”“Emergency at work.” I finished for her. “Cargo problem. Has to be in Miami by midnight. The world ends if he isn’t there.”“Tyler.”I looked at her for the first time since I walked downstairs, catching that familiar look she gave me when she felt I was spiraling again.“I don’t like your tone.” “By now you should know I’m used to him never being around, Mom.” I said dryly. “He’s never available.” “Tyler,” she called again, a little sharper this time. Then she watched me for a moment before dropping the glass.“He wanted to be here, okay?” She said calmly. “It’s just not his fault he moves around so much.” I nearly groaned.Maybe throw my bag across the living room from hearing that same sick line for the seventieth time since I learned to play basketball.But my hand was shoved deep into my pocket Hurt.So instead, I turned away and sighed.“
Sydney If I thought Monday was noisy and crowded with all the buzz going on about the game… I was wrong. Tuesday was worse. “Bringing that trophy home!” someone yelled from behind me, purple paint smeared across half his face like he’d lost a fight with a paint bucket. “Woop! Woop! Lakeview!” Someone brought a freaking horn to school and was blowing it while riding a skateboard down the hallway. That wasn’t just dangerous, that was illegal on school grounds. “Hey, catch!” Something flew across the hallway. I shrieked and ducked automatically. Thud! A basketball smacked into a locker two feet away from me, before bouncing back into someone’s hands. The guy didn’t even apologize. He just caught it and laughed, turning back to his partner. Then he threw it again in someone else’s direction. Chaos. That was the perfect description of Lakeview High’s hallway that morning. And somehow, the school was encouraging it. Purple streamers hung from the railing, p
SydneyI walked back out of Lakeview High that day with trembling legs and slid into the back seat of Maeve’s car, listening to her recite her shopping list like I genuinely cared what flavor of beauty face mask we bought at the mall. Anything to keep her from figuring out I actually hadn’t forgotten a pen, or whatever I’d told her I’d left behind.But I’d gone back to look for Tyler Sinclair. Because whatever was wrong with me wouldn’t shut up about the gym assembly.And there he was, lying on the gym floor. His hand trembling like it’d fall off the longer he kept pretending nothing was wrong.“Out of three jobs, he was a gym instructor. And sometimes he’d come back tired and angry and…” I’d stopped myself right there.Stopped myself from walking directly into one of the most humiliating jokes from that irony.“The fat girl’s dad was a gym instructor.”Lakeview would have a field day.Then there was the way Tyler had looked at me.Not that usual annoyed, amused Tyler look.It felt l
TylerMom.Of course.Because apparently the universe still wasn’t done humiliating me today.Mom sat quietly on the couch in the living room, one leg crossed over the other, still in her work clothes. Her laptop rested beside her, untouched, but her eyes stayed fixed on the mug of coffee in her hands, ignoring the fact that I’d just walked through the door later than normal.At least that was what it was supposed to look like.But I knew better.She was waiting.Sitting there, staring at the TV without actually watching it, expecting me to turn back around and do what I should’ve done days ago.My hand suddenly stung beneath the bandage, reminding me why walking over to her felt like a terrible idea.Sydney had spent time wrapping it properly. And if I took it off, there was no way I’d wrap it back just as well.And honestly, I just wanted to go up to my room and just keep avoiding Mom. But I knew she’d never let me win these silent treatment games she liked to play.I sighed and st
TylerBy the end of practice, I’d concluded we were going to lose Tuesday’s game.And that pissed me off more than getting dragged into the gym earlier like some criminal on public display. And Principal Lawrence really stood there acting disappointed like he didn’t happily collect “donations” from half the parents in Lakeview whenever their kids screwed up. “Sinclair! Get a grip!” Coach Bradford’s whistle shrieked through the gym again. “What the hell is wrong with you?”I lost count after maybe the fiftieth time he yelled it.Because clearly he was still pissed about the fight. He just couldn’t bench me before Redwood, so instead he decided to verbally assassinate me during practice.But the funny thing was, I did get a grip.Really fucking tried.“You good, Ty?” Micheal nudged me after one horrible pass nearly smashed straight into Aaron’s face. “You look like you’re about to puke.” Maybe I was. Because every time I caught the ball, pain ripped through my hand so hard it nearly







