LOGINSydney “What does he show you?” Brooklyn’s voice echoed in the silence. And I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I wanted to tell her to shut up. That I thought Tyler liked me. That maybe it didn’t matter what he’d shown me because I’d never really given him the chance. That I hated telling him to stay away. That— My thoughts cracked apart. Brooklyn stepped even closer, folding her arms. “Don’t get me wrong, Sydney. Tyler’s charming.” She shrugged. “A little too much sometimes. But everybody knows a different version of him.” I watched her expression soften. “This version…” her voice dropped. “…is apparently willing to throw away a lifelong friendship for whatever’s going on with him.” My frown deepened. “What are you talking about?” Her eyes held mine, calm as ever. “He told me to stay away from you. And apparently…” her smile flickered. “from him too.” My heart dropped. But before I could even process it, she’d already turned back to the stove.
SydneyDon’t get me wrong.Before any of this started, Brooklyn used to get her hands dirty in the kitchen. But that was usually for pancakes whenever the cook ran late or something like that. And half the time, some of it ended up burnt or too sweet. Or somehow both.We used to laugh about it.Now she stood by a boiling pot, slicing vegetables like she knew exactly what she was doing.I kept my eyes on her for another second—on that small smile that seemed permanent now, like if I stared long enough, I’d suddenly understand what was going on inside her head.She looked nothing like someone who’d been yelled at by a childhood friend. Or someone who’d deliberately ruined his name for reasons I still wasn’t sure I wanted to know.If anything, she looked calm.Too calm.I tightened my grip around the knife before looking back down at the slab of beef in front of me.“Beef stew?” I asked quietly, breaking the silence that sat between us.“Yeah.” She stirred the pot once before smiling to
Sydney “She doesn’t get to walk all over you just because she knows how much you respect her.” Meave’s words echoed in my head.“But Tyler—” “Tyler nothing, Syd.” Her voice had gone soft. “She hurt you too. Not just Tyler.” Those words stayed with me for the rest of school. And safe to say, I barely concentrated.Not through the rest of the classes. Not at the library when I tried to read and do a little research. Not even when I eventually climbed into the back seat of the car.Because honestly, the more I thought of it, the more that tiny voice in my head rose above the others.The part that didn’t want to let it go. That part that still hurt knowing Brooklyn had lied to me. Smiled at me at the table while she said all those things.Made me believe her.Made me yell at Tyler.“She hurt you too. Not just Tyler.”I swallowed, feeling my breath shake as I squeezed my sheets between my fingers, my bed making a slight creak as I slid to the edge.All my life I’d wanted a sibling. Some
SydneyThe lunch bell finally rang after what felt like forever, the sound echoing through the class like some kind of reward.Because somewhere in between being caught up in what that weird shift in class was, and forcing myself not to think about it, I’d barely managed to focus on taking things down into my notebook.And when lunch finally came, Maeve and I strolled into the cafeteria, honestly expecting that loud, annoying noise that usually came with students pretending table manners didn’t exist.Instead, it was that same low murmur from the hallway. Quiet enough that if you didn’t know better, you’d think it wasn’t a normal day at Lakeview High.I looked at Maeve as we settled at a table, but somehow it didn’t seem like she noticed.Or so I thought.“...and she just started crying like parrots aren’t cute.” She took another bite of her burger. “It was a compliment.”I snorted, fumbling lightly with mine before glancing up.My eyes met some girl at the next table.She looked awa
SydneySurprisingly, I slept pretty well that night. I mean, my head did throb for a few more minutes after Mom walked with me out of the balcony. But that was probably because I’d watched the laptop cursor blink for a few more seconds before finally giving up.And after what felt like the second I pulled my duvet over my head, I was out.But guess what?Morning came in thirteen minutes. And it took something in me for me not to slam my alarm clock to pieces when it echoed painfully through my room.But after about an hour of showering, digging through my closet only to pick out an ash hoodie and jeans eventually, stuffing my bag with books I was half sure I wasn’t even going to need…I stood in front of my mirror with a hairbrush in my hand.And for some reason, I just stared.I watched my face, my shoulders, my arms, my thighs held together in those jeans.I felt nothing.That same empty feeling from yesterday had settled quietly inside my chest again, and I couldn’t explain it.It
SydneyNo one really talks about that empty feeling in your chest when you finally let out something you’ve been fighting to hold back.Or the heavier one that comes right after. When you realize what you’ve just done.In my case?I was shaking.I was shaking so badly I nearly missed the last step before Maeve’s car. Yet somehow, my tears seemed to have rolled backward and refused to come forward again.It felt wrong.My hands wouldn’t stop trembling, my chest still hurt, but my eyes stayed dry as we drove home in silence.Maybe I was still angry.Or maybe…a part of me didn’t want Maeve worrying any more than she already was.But the second she quietly asked if she could come upstairs with me…Everything broke.The tears came so quickly I couldn’t stop them, sliding down my cheeks before I even reached my bedroom.And somehow, hearing the door click shut behind us only made it worse. Because the entire conversation came rushing back.Every word. Every step Tyler took towards me with t
Tyler I didn’t even want to come in the first place. Michael’s parties were always predictable—crowded house, expensive liquor stolen from his parent’s wine cellar, music loud enough to make you go deaf. Same faces, same people in silly costumes, thirsty for some recognition. The only reas
Sydney 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
Tyler “Sydney Walker,” I’d repeated all day in my head. And the moment Brooklyn yelled my name, running toward me on the basketball court, and I found out that that curvy genius she hadn’t stopped blabbing about all week was her sister— Everything shifted. I swear I’m not a bully. I’ve neve
“Okay, rule number one,” Maeve said over the noise in the cafeteria. “Don’t challenge Tyler Sinclair in algebra.” I tried my best not to look around. "Why? He was wrong.” Maeve picked up a food tray and stopped in front of me. "I'm not blind, Sydney. And no one else in that class was. We all saw







