로그인SydneyClasses 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







