Chapter 17

Pov: Jules

It was still early morning when I made my way to my bench, the one under the archway covered in ivy. The chilly air wrapped around me, the smell of damp leaves in the breeze. I clutched my notebook and coffee, taking in the stillness before campus came to life. I was here to clear my head, but the storm inside me felt relentless.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling absently through Instagram, my thumb moving automatically while my mind drifted elsewhere. And then, it was like a slap to the face. A notification popped up: "Katie has tagged you in a story."

My stomach flipped, and I froze. My heart was pounding, and for a split second, I considered just putting my phone away, pretending I didn't see it. But instead, my finger hovered over the notification. My curiosity, or maybe my inability to let go, got the better of me.

I clicked it.

The image took a moment to load, and when it did, my breath caught in my chest. It was me, a year ago at Riven High—a photo I didn't even know had been taken. Caught off guard, mid-blink, my headphones slung carelessly around my neck. Katie's caption read: "Oh look, it's Dylan Wilder: the queen of weird. Guess she thought moving across the country would stop me from remembering what a loser she is. Cute. 😂"

It was covered in those stupid, ridiculous GIFs—laughing skulls, people rolling their eyes. The comments underneath filled with laughing emojis, and a couple of familiar names from Riven, chiming in with their own cruel remarks.

I could feel my coffee cooling in my hands as I just stared at the screen. I clicked the story again, like maybe I'd read it wrong, or maybe if I looked at it long enough, I could make the words mean something else.

"Seriously?" I muttered, my voice breaking, even though no one could hear. "What the fuck, Katie..."

My chest felt tight, and tears were burning my eyes before I could even stop them. I put my phone down, pressing the heels of my palms against my face, trying desperately to calm myself. I wasn't supposed to let her get to me anymore. I wasn't supposed to be here, crying over this again, feeling like I was still that awkward, lost kid from Riven High.

Another notification came almost immediately. I picked up the phone, my vision still blurred, my heart dropping as I opened it. Katie had posted again—a follow-up. A screenshot of the same photo, this time with a new caption: "Bet she's crying about this right now. Always so sensitive. 😂"

I felt something break inside me. The tears spilled over, and I just sat there, wiping my face roughly with the sleeve of my jacket, my eyes darting around, hoping no one saw me like this. The cold air stung my face, but nothing seemed to snap me out of it.

It was all too much. Chloe, Katie, the new school. The things I thought I'd left behind were still dragging me down. I whispered to myself, a shaky, bitter whisper: "This was supposed to be my fresh start. Why can't I just move on?"

Memories rushed in—uninvited and unstoppable. I could see Katie and me when things were different, back before everything went wrong. Sleepovers, secrets whispered late into the night, and inside jokes that made me feel like I actually belonged somewhere. And then the slow, painful shift. The way she began pulling away, her biting comments in the hallway that everyone laughed at except me. I remembered the look on her face when she called me a "sad little puppy" in front of everyone—dripping with fake sweetness while the others snickered.

It felt like I was suffocating under it all. I thought leaving Riven would end Katie's control over my life, but it didn't matter that I'd moved halfway across the country. She still had her hold on me. The same insecurities, the same fears. I tried to tell myself that I wasn't there anymore—that I was safe, that I was different now. But it all felt hollow.

I gripped my notebook and pulled it open, needing an outlet, something to do with my hands. I began sketching furiously, lines coming out jagged, angry. A twisted version of Katie, her features exaggerated, her mouth curling into that cruel smile, shadows surrounding her, laughing along. The drawing only made it worse—the more I drew, the more I saw her face, the laughter, the way she looked at me as if I was nothing.

I let out a frustrated noise and threw the notebook aside, burying my head in my hands as the tears came harder. "Why does she care so much?" I whispered to myself, my voice cracking. "Why can't she just leave me alone?"

I thought I'd escaped this kind of cruelty. I thought I was done with this—done with the feeling of being less, of being something to be mocked. The bench, which had become my sanctuary, now felt tainted, as if the air itself was pressing down on me, reminding me of everything I couldn't leave behind.

My phone buzzed, a message pulling me out of my spiral. I sniffed, wiping at my face before picking it up. It was from Harper: "You coming to lunch today? I'll save you a spot 😊."

I stared at the message, unsure. The thought of putting myself together, of walking into that crowded dining hall and pretending like I hadn't just been breaking down—it felt impossible. But Harper's words, her offer to save me a spot, somehow cut through the noise in my head.

I took a deep breath and texted back: "Yeah, I'll be there. Thanks."

It took a few minutes, a few more deep breaths, but eventually, I steadied myself. I picked up my notebook, flipping to a new page, and instead of Katie, I started sketching Juno—my cat, with her stupid big eyes and fluffy fur. It wasn't perfect, but it was better. A small shift in focus, a way to breathe again.

When I made it back to the dorm, I felt like a zombie. The exhaustion in my bones made everything feel dull—like I was wading through water just to take a single step. I opened the door quietly, hoping Nathan wouldn't even look up, wouldn't ask questions. I didn't have anything left in me to fake normal.

The door creaked as it always did, and I stepped inside, dropping my bag by the desk with a heavy sigh. Nathan was on his bed, earbuds in, his head nodding along to whatever he was listening to. He barely glanced up as I came in, but when he did, his gaze lingered. My face must have given it away, because soon enough, I saw him pull the earbuds out, sitting up straighter.

"Rough day?" he asked. His voice was cautious, not its usual sarcastic edge.

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything that wouldn't crack me open. I grabbed a bottle of water from my desk, hoping the act of doing something might be enough to make him drop it. But, of course, he didn't.

"What, did Chloe pull some more shit?" he asked, his brows drawing together. He sounded almost annoyed, like he was ready to go find her himself.

"No," I mumbled, my back still turned to him. I unscrewed the bottle cap and stared at the water like it had all the answers. "Not... it's not Chloe."

There was a beat of silence before I heard the bed creak as he moved. I could feel him watching me, like he was trying to piece it together but not quite getting there. "Then what?" His voice was quieter now, almost uncertain.

I swallowed hard, trying to figure out what I could even say. Nobody knew. Not Harper, not Nathan, not anyone here. I hadn't planned to let it out—not like this. But I was tired, and it hurt too much to hold in.

"It's just... someone from my old school," I finally said, my voice barely audible. "She... just posted some stuff. About me." I could feel my throat tighten again, and I hated it. I didn't want to do this in front of him. I didn't want to break down, not with Nathan watching.

Nathan was quiet, and when he spoke, I heard a mix of confusion and irritation. "Someone from your old school? What kind of stuff?"

I shrugged, trying to keep it vague. "Just... shit from before. She was a friend, I guess. But now she's just... making sure I know I can't escape who I was." My voice cracked at the end, and I cursed under my breath. I hated this—hated feeling like that scared, humiliated kid again.

Nathan's frown deepened, and for once, he seemed unsure of what to say. He shifted awkwardly, then stood up, taking a couple of steps towards me. I saw him run his hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in it in frustration. "Okay, uh... well, fuck her, first of all," he said, his voice blunt. "Seriously. If she's going out of her way to fuck with you, then she's the loser, not you."

I tried to swallow, but the lump in my throat was too big, and the tears were blurring my vision again. I shook my head, my voice cracking. "Sorry. I didn't mean to... I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I just—" I broke off, wiping roughly at my face, hating that I was crying. "I'm just so tired of it, Nathan. I thought I'd moved on, and it's like I can't. I can't fucking get away from it."

He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable, and for a moment I thought he was going to tell me to pull it together. But instead, he just sighed, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. "Yeah, well... I mean, you don't need to apologize. Honestly, if anyone should be fucking sorry, it's that girl," he said. "Sounds like she's got nothing better to do than try to make your life miserable. And that's just... sad. Pathetic, even."

He took a step closer, his eyes meeting mine, and for once there was nothing guarded there—just a kind of raw honesty that made me look away, embarrassed by how exposed I felt.

"I'm just saying," Nathan went on, his voice softening. "You got out of wherever that was. You're here now, right? So fuck her. She can stay in that shitty past of hers, but you're already somewhere better."

I took a shaky breath, my eyes still fixed on the floor. "You don't know her. You don't know what she's like."

"Yeah, I don't," he agreed, shrugging. "But I know assholes. And she sounds like one. I'm just saying..." He paused, clearly trying to figure out what to say next. "You're better than she gives you credit for. She wouldn't be spending her time on this shit if she wasn't somehow threatened by you moving on."

I let out a bitter laugh, wiping my eyes again. "You really think so?"

Nathan shrugged again, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. "Hell yeah. You've got that... I don't know. You've got that 'fuck it' attitude. You show up, you put your head down, and you keep moving. I bet that drives her crazy."

I managed a small smile, sniffing as I tried to regain control of myself. "Thanks," I said, my voice still wobbly. "And... sorry. For, you know, dumping this on you."

Nathan gave me a look, something almost annoyed but not quite. "Don't be stupid. You're not dumping anything," he said, his voice low. "I mean, yeah, I'm not the best at this kind of shit. But you can... I don't know, talk. Or whatever."

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything else, but feeling the weight in my chest lighten just a little. I wasn't alone. Not entirely.

Nathan cleared his throat and moved back to his side of the room, but before he sat back down, I noticed him reach into the drawer by his bed. He fumbled for a moment, then tossed something onto my desk. I glanced over and saw it—a small bag of M&Ms with a sticky note that read, "For shitty days. Don't let the assholes win. - N."

I looked back at him, blinking through the last of my tears. "Seriously?" I asked, and there was an almost shaky laugh in my voice.

Nathan shrugged, finally sitting back down and putting his earbuds back in. "Yeah, well. I'm not great with pep talks, so..." He trailed off, waving a hand vaguely. "That's what you get. Don't make it weird."

I smiled, a real smile, something warm spreading in my chest that I hadn't felt in a while. "Thanks, Nathan. Really."

He didn't respond, just gave me a nod before turning back to his phone, his music filling the room again.

I stared at the M&Ms for a moment, the small note with his messy handwriting. I slipped it into my desk drawer, where I knew I'd keep it—one small reminder that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.

Maybe the past wouldn't go away. Maybe Katie would always be somewhere, lurking in the shadows. But right now, here in this dorm room that I shared with this strange, complicated, surprisingly kind boy, it felt like maybe there was space to breathe again. And maybe, that was enough.

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A/N

Nathan is a cutie patootie, a little note!??!!?!? UGH STOP IT

Don't forget to vote <3