Cruel Intentions: Chapter 3

Today is the day I’ve feared. Sleep eluded me, leaving me instead with hours of staring at the ceiling, consumed by the storm of anxiety swirling in my chest. Noah’s words from last night echo in my mind, each one cutting deeper the more I replay them. I’ve never seen him like that before—so vulnerable, so angry, so… not him.

When he appeared at my window, I thought, maybe, just maybe, it was the Noah I once knew—the boy I trusted with all my secrets.

But the moment he opened his mouth, he shattered any hope I had left. His words weren’t just harsh; they were crushing, a painful reminder of how much he’s changed.

Now I don’t even know if I can even face him. But today, I’ll have to—and I’m not sure I’ll make it through the aftermath.

I can’t help but wonder how Tia, my old friend, will react when she sees me today.

I’ve tried reaching out to her so many times, but all I’ve gotten is silence.

The two people I trusted the most ghosting me as if I don’t exist. I get it with Noah—he was upfront with me; said he couldn’t do this if I walked away. At least he was honest.

But Tia?

I don’t get it. Maybe she was never really my friend to begin with.

One thing I’m sure of, though, is that she’s always had a thing for Noah—just like every other girl back then. And now, every time I creep through his social media (yeah, I know, I’m pathetic), there she is, always in the background, smiling. With how much hotter he’s gotten over the past year, I know she’s still all about him.

Maybe that’s all I ever was to her—just a way to get closer to him.

The truth’s going to come out today when I see her. I’ll finally know if she’s still got my back or if I was just a pawn in her little game.

Part of me wants to text her now; to let her know I’ll be back at school, so I don’t have to walk through those gates alone. But then I remember the distance that’s grown between us, and I just… I can’t. I don’t know if I can handle hearing whatever bullshit excuse she’s going to throw at me.

I throw the covers off, my feet hitting the cold floor with a jolt. I get up, my body moving on autopilot, but my mind… It’s stuck.

Without even realizing, my gaze drifts toward the neighboring house, my eyes landing on Noah’s window.

The curtain is still closed.

It hits harder than I want to admit.

It’s not just a window—it’s a symbol. A barrier between us. It used to be open, just like mine, like we were part of each other’s world without even trying.

But now?

Now it’s closed, and it feels like I’m staring at the remnants of something that’s been shut out.

I throw on whatever clothes I can grab, then snatch my backpack, trying to move quietly, like I’m sneaking out of a place that’s no longer mine.

The silence in the house is suffocating. But it’s better this way. I don’t want to deal with my dad, not with the way things are, not with the awkwardness still hanging between us. Besides I don’t know his routine anymore.

I shuffle to the cupboard, my stomach already growling. When I pull open the door, it’s empty, just a few tins staring back at me as if mocking me.

With the hunger gnawing at me, I slam the cupboard shut, and move to the fridge, hoping for something, anything.

But it’s just as empty. Mostly filled with beer. I guess some things never change.

I close the fridge, turning away, ignoring the emptiness that’s creeping into every part of my life, and walk to the front door.

After a nine-block walk, I finally reach the front of the school, my feet feel heavy, like they’re dragging me toward something I don’t want to face. I stop short of the entrance, my eyes automatically drawn to the parking lot. Cars are lined up, a mix of shiny and beat-up, but it’s the people that hit me the hardest.

Groups cluster together, laughing, chatting, like they all belong.

Some head into the school, and I stand there, scanning for someone, anyone, that I might recognize.

There are a few faces I remember from before, but we were never close enough for me to strike up a conversation. I’m not part of this. I’m not part of anything here.

Standing on the edge of it all, I feel invisible, like I’m just a shadow of someone who used to exist.

I grab the straps on my shoulders, tugging them tighter, as if it’ll somehow anchor me.

I move forward, walking past groups of students who glance at me but say nothing. I’m just a passing blur to them.

I push through the towering gates of the school, the noise and chaos of it all threatening to swallow me whole.

My first stop is the administration building. I need to find out if my mother bothered to contact them about my attendance. But deep down, I already know she hasn’t.

The idea of her thinking about me feels like a bad joke.

Just last Friday, I was at my old school, surrounded by people I trusted, people I had real friendships with. I never had a boyfriend there, but I didn’t need one. I had admirers. Not that any of them ever caught my eye—they never came close to Noah.

Now that I know the truth about how he really felt about me, maybe I should’ve let them in, instead of clinging to some twisted fantasy of what I thought Noah could be.

I climb the steps, and push through the door into the building.

The noise hits instantly, like a wall—students moving in groups, laughing, talking, completely at ease.

Some linger by their lockers, chatting like they’ve got all the time in the world, like this is their kingdom and they know exactly where they belong.

I push forward, keeping my eyes on the floor, doing everything I can to avoid drawing attention. But as I move deeper into the hall, the noise shifts. Conversations taper off, one by one, like someone hit a mute button.

Suddenly, all I can hear is the pounding of my own heartbeat, loud and relentless in the silence.

I glance up to find every eye in the building is on me.

I can feel their stares searing into my skin, like I’ve become some kind of exhibit. My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment all I want is to vanish. To turn around and walk right back out the door, leaving all of this shit behind.

But I don’t.

I keep moving, even though I feel like I’m about to crumble under the weight of all their gazes.

I scan the crowd, my eyes darting over familiar faces. But it’s like I’m seeing everything through a new, twisted lens. Some people return my smile, while others glare at me, their eyes sharp, full of something I can’t quite place.

My presence here, my so-called popularity—it was never really mine. It was tied to Noah, to the connection we had, to the friendship everyone else wanted a piece of. Without that, I’m just… nothing.

I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to push past the sting of realization. I was just a shadow, a fleeting afterthought in a world where Noah was the sun, and everything orbited around him.

I force my eyes to focus ahead, even though every step feels like a weight dragging me under. And then I see her—Tia.

But she’s not the same.

She’s standing there, surrounded by the girls from our old group, and they all seem… different now. Polished. Perfect. Their faces are caked in makeup, their hair flawless, like they just stepped off the set of some fashion shoot. Not at all like the Tia I remember—the girl who wore ripped jeans and oversized T-shirts, who didn’t give a shit about looking like she had it all together.

I take a deep breath, and when she turns her head, I raise my hand, offering a smile.

As I watch her face, I catch it—a flicker of shock. Maybe she’s surprised to see me, too. Maybe she didn’t expect me to show up here again, standing in front of her like nothing’s changed. But that’s the problem. Everything’s changed.

I’m not the same. And the smile I was hoping for, the one that used to come so easily between us, never appears.

Instead, her eyes shift. Her attention flicks away from me, and I feel the sudden coldness. She’s looking at something—or someone.

I follow her gaze, and my stomach sinks as I spot Noah with a group of guys. Reece Wilson and Jace Cooper—his old crew, the ones who were always by his side. They were inseparable back then, always up to something. And now?

Now, Noah stands there like he’s fucking royalty. Leaning against the lockers, his hair falling effortlessly over his forehead, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He smiles, talking to Jace, while the others hang around, listening to him like he’s the king of this place.

Tia moves toward them, her steps deliberate and calculated as she positions herself directly in front of Noah.

It’s a deliberate shift, one that pulls her into the center of the group with a sense of ownership.

I swallow hard as a cold; unsettling feeling settles in my chest.

I can’t help but remember how Tia used to talk about Noah, how she’d swoon over him like he was some untouchable god. And now, watching her slip effortlessly into his orbit, something claws at me.

Are they together now?

Is that why Noah looked at me like that last night, like he didn’t even recognize me anymore?

The thought eats at me, my chest tightening with every second that passes.

I keep my eyes locked on them, hating myself for it, but I can’t look away, even knowing it’s only going to hurt.

Tia says something, and Noah’s head snaps up, his attention locking on me.

Then Reece and Jace follow suit, their faces unreadable. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not part of their world anymore. I’m just the girl standing on the sidelines, watching as everything slips away, piece by piece.

It feels like I’m drowning in this stupid, impossible situation. I want to scream. I want to demand answers, but all I can do is stand here, completely exposed, completely alone, as they all look at me like I don’t belong anymore.

I force myself to keep walking, my feet dragging with every step, as the stares and whispers slice through the air. I can feel the weight of their glares burning into my skin, like daggers of judgment, but I push it all down.

I have to keep moving forward, even when every part of me is screaming to turn around and run.

The piercing gazes of the girls from Tia’s group make my skin crawl. They’re scrutinizing me, dissecting every step I take, and I feel myself shrinking under the weight of their judgment, like I’m not even human to them anymore—just a target for their silent ridicule.

But it’s Noah’s look that hits hardest. Like he’s watching me with something close to disgust. Like he’s already decided what I am in his mind, and none of it is good. I feel exposed, completely vulnerable, like I’m a broken piece of glass in his hands—fragile and useless.

I quicken my pace, desperate to escape the weight of his stare, to seek refuge in the safety of the office. Anything to stop feeling so damn small.

Standing in the office foyer, I try to steady my breath, but the anxiety claws at me, a suffocating pressure that refuses to let go.

My eyes are drawn to the large photos on the wall. Two former students who have become music legends. Xander Williams and Ace Roberts. Their names are etched beneath their faces, bold and proud. They were just like me once, sitting in these same classrooms, walking these same hallways. And now, they’re the biggest rockstars in the world, icons whose names are screamed by millions of adoring fans. Did they ever stand where I am now, facing this place with the same fear, the same uncertainty? Did they ever feel small here, lost in a crowd, wondering if they’d ever make it out?

Or did it always come so easy for them, while I’m stuck here, struggling to even survive a single day?

A voice breaks through the haze of my scattered thoughts, and I turn sharply toward it.

A young admin assistant stands there, her face a picture of calm composure. Her smile is polite, distant, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m intruding.

‘Can I help you?’ she asks, her voice a little too sweet, like she’s done this a thousand times.

I swallow, my throat tightening. ‘Yeah, um… I need to update my information. I just transferred back here,’ I mutter.

‘Of course,’ she replies, her smile unwavering, and I can’t stand how effortlessly she falls into that role—like she’s never had a second of uncertainty, never felt out of place. She gestures toward the seat. ‘I just need a few details from you.’

I just have to make it through this year—get through it, and then I’m free.

School will be over. If Noah and Tia think I’m going to back down, that I’ll just let them walk all over me, they’re both fucking wrong.

I’m stronger than this. I’ve been through worse and made it out.

They might have gotten to me this morning, but that was just the beginning. I’m not some easy target for them to tear apart.

With my schedule clenched in my hand, I step into the classroom, each breath controlled, the familiar knot of tension already settling in my chest. I approach the teacher, a middle-aged man who glances at me for a moment before looking down at the note in my hand.

“Take a seat,” he says, after handing him my late note.

My gaze sweeps the room, my mind already bracing for what’s coming. In the back, Noah sits with Reece and Jace, the trio looking effortlessly cool and too damn hot.

Tia’s in the middle, a queen reigning over a clique of girls. Their eyes flicker over me for a brief moment before shifting away, but I can feel the weight of their judgment, the silent sneers that still linger.

I take a deep breath. I’m not here to back down. So, I stride toward the only empty seat in the room, chin held high, with no hesitation in my step.

As I pass Tia, the all-too-familiar sound of laughter rings out—sharp and mocking. My foot catches on something, and before I can react, I’m crashing to the floor, the room erupting in cruel, echoing laughter.

I don’t flinch. I don’t wince.

I catch a glimpse of Tia’s smirk, her foot still casually stretched out in my path, her eyes gleaming with that same malicious intent.

But I’m done playing her game. I push myself up off the ground, glaring at her.

If she wants a fight? I’ll give her one.

I dust myself off, straightening, not a trace of weakness in my posture. I don’t need anyone’s help. I don’t need their approval. And I sure as hell don’t need to fall in line.

“I’m not going anywhere. So back the fuck off,” I mutter under my breath, watching her face falter for a split second.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she says, her voice laced with fake innocence, her eyes darting to her little entourage as if she’s clueless. The words roll off her tongue so smoothly, like she’s rehearsed them a thousand times, but I see right through it.

‘What are you talking about?’ she repeats, her tone thick with mock confusion, before muttering a barely audible ‘bitch’ under her breath—just loud enough for her loyal little crew of fake bitches to hear. And that’s all it takes to fuel their judgmental whispers.

I want to fire back, to rip her apart with the truth, but the weight of their eyes on me, the mocking laughter from her posse, makes it impossible to shake the sting of humiliation. It feels like the walls are closing in, the room shrinking by the seconds. I’m suffocating in their attention as if they are waiting for me to break.

I bite down on my tongue, fighting the urge to lash out.

I lift my eyes, searching for a place to sit, and there it is—Noah’s smirk.

It’s not just a smile. It’s a threat, a warning, like he’s daring me to challenge the unspoken rules of his little kingdom.

I scan the room, forcing myself to ignore the weight of his gaze, and that’s when I see her. A girl with bright red hair, sitting by the only empty chair. Her green eyes meet mine, cutting through the noise. There’s something in her stare—a quiet defiance, soft but unyielding, like she can see straight through all their bullshit.

Her lips curl into a small, knowing smile, and with the slightest tilt of her head, she gestures to the seat beside her. No hesitation, no fear—like she couldn’t care less about Noah, Tia, or their bullshit games.

As I approach, the teacher’s voice drones on about politics—or some other boring shit that’s supposed to be important— but it’s just noise, like everything else in this room. I slide into the seat next to her, my heart still pounding from the shit that just went down.

‘Thanks,’ I murmur, keeping my voice low as I take a moment to pull myself together. I need a second to breathe, to reset. The last thing I want is for her to notice how shaken I am, how much Tia’s cruel stunt and Noah’s twisted smirk are still tearing at me.

I sneak a quick glance at her, my gaze lingering just a moment too long. Freckles dust her nose, subtle and perfect, like they were painted there to enhance her effortless beauty. Her red hair cascades in loose waves, catching the overhead light as it spills down her back. And her eyes—bright, steady, unshakable—make it seem like nothing in the world could rattle her.

It’s a stark contrast to Tia, who slathers on layers of makeup like armor, acting like that’s what makes her sexy. But this girl? There’s nothing fake about her. No facade. Just raw, effortless beauty that’s impossible to look past. And for the first time all day, I feel like maybe I don’t have to fake it either.

‘You’re welcome,’ she mutters, her voice soft, just loud enough for me to hear while the teacher keeps rambling. She leans in, her words sharper now. ‘But seriously… You should probably stay the hell away from them. Tia’s a total bitch.’ She lets the words hang in the air for a moment, letting them land, before adding with a slight smirk, ‘I’m Sam, by the way.’

I remember Sam now. We’ve never really crossed paths before—different crowds and all that—but fuck, I’ve always admired her hair.

‘Yeah, Samantha Carter,’ I say smoothly, watching as a flicker of surprise crosses her face. She clearly wasn’t expecting me to know her name.

‘I used to go here, about a year and a half ago,’ I add, letting the words settle between us. ‘I’m Aubrey. Aubrey Baxter.’

Recognition flashes in her eyes, and she nods slowly. ‘Ah, yeah, I do remember you now,’ she says, her voice softer, like she’s sifting through old memories. Then her brows knit together, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. ‘Didn’t you used to hang out with Tia and Noah back then?’ She pauses, and something seems to click. ‘Wait—wasn’t Noah your boyfriend or something?’

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, that question hitting way too close to home. Fuck, that name, and fuck those memories.

‘Yeah, we were,’ I admit, the words tasting like shit in my mouth. ‘But that was a long time ago. Things change.’ The words sting more than I expected, but it’s the truth. He’s not mine anymore. And he never will be.

Sam gives me a small, sad smile, the kind that’s more heartbreaking than reassuring, before she turns her attention back to the teacher.

I try to follow her lead, but the weight of Tia’s constant, pointed glares presses on me, like they’re searing into my skin. Her and her clique—whispering, laughing, plotting. It’s exhausting, this game she’s playing. I can’t for the life of me figure out why she’s so hell-bent on tearing me down.

If we’re not friends anymore, then fine—cut me out. I don’t need her. But instead of moving on, she’s dragging me through this shitstorm, like she needs to prove something. Maybe she thinks I came back for Noah.

Doesn’t she see how much he hates me? How his stare is colder than a slap every time it hits me? If she’s got him now, good for her. She won. But I’ll have to live with it, no matter how much it hurts to see them together. So why the hell does she still feel the need to make me her personal punching bag?

Every glance Tia throws my way feels like a spark, daring me to light the fire she’s just waiting to stoke. She wants me to react, to slip up and give her the excuse she’s been craving. The tension tightens around me like barbed wire, digging in deeper with every snicker and whisper that drips from her lips.

Beside me, Sam leans in. “Just ignore the bitch,” she murmurs. A faint smile tugs at her lips, one that screams fuck Tia and her crew of bitches.

I smile. Sam seems like the kind of girl who doesn’t take shit from anyone, who stands her ground without a second thought. There’s something about her—calm, unbothered, like nothing and no one can shake her.

When the bell finally rings, I shove my stuff into my bag.

Tia and her posse of fake-ass disciples spill out of the room, all of them practically stumbling over each other to hang on to every meaningless word she spits.

I roll my shoulders, pushing the tension out, and exhale sharply, relief flooding through me now that she’s finally gone.

Sam tosses her pack over her shoulder. “If you want, you can hang with me and a few of the other girls. We get how hard it is to deal with Tia. We’ve all seen how she taunts Lola, a girl from our group. It’s like Tia gets off on tearing her down.”

“Thanks, I’d really appreciate that,” I say, standing up, but my mind’s racing, trying to figure out who the hell Sam’s talking about.

Sam doesn’t hesitate. “You won’t remember Lola. She wasn’t here when you were at the school. She showed up about six months ago.” As we exit the classroom, she casts a glance my way. “It was her first day, and Tia started on her for no reason. Been at her every day since. Like she has some sick need to break her down.”

I can’t help but wonder what the hell turned Tia into such a bitch. What did she do—what ruthless shit did she pull to claw her way to the top and crown herself queen bee of this goddamn school? I never saw that side of her when we were friends. Back then, she didn’t have that venom in her. Now it’s like she’s drowning in it.

As I push through the crowded hallways, I can feel Tia before I see her—like a storm, ready to tear me apart.

Without warning, she’s next to me, yanking hard on the strap of my backpack. The sudden pull knocks the bag off my shoulder, and it crashes to the floor. She kicks it forward, then grabs the bottom, flipping it over so everything spills out through the damn zipper I forgot to close.

Pens, notebooks, and random school crap fly everywhere—but it’s the personal stuff that makes my stomach drop.

I watch as tampons roll across the floor—just fucking perfect. But it’s the roll of condoms that really hits. The ones Marjorie, my friend from my old school, shoved into my bag last Friday, laughing her ass off, telling me I needed to get laid since I didn’t give a shit about any of the guys hitting on me.

My face turns bright red with embarrassment, and I feel the weight of their stares—every last one of them.

My heart pounds in my chest, my hands trembling as I crouch down, frantically trying to shove everything back into my bag. I can hear the whispers, the footsteps closing in, too damn curious as they gather around to watch this trainwreck unfold. I hate how powerless I am right now.

As I reach for the nearest tampon, Tia’s foot connects with it first, sending it skidding across the floor until it crashes into someone’s shoe.

My eyes snap up, and I freeze when I see it’s Jace’s shoe.

If he’s here, then Noah can’t be far behind. And sure enough, there he is, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his eyes practically gleaming as he watches Tia’s little show. He’s loving this, like my humiliation is his entertainment. Reece stands beside him, arms crossed, his face blank—like he’s too good to even care.

And, of course, the rest of the school is gathered around, drawn in like moths to a flame.

Before I can even reach for the roll of condoms, Tia snatches them up like she’s found her holy grail. She holds them out for everyone to see, her voice thick with sarcasm.

“Looks like someone’s got big plans,” she sneers, loud enough for the entire hallway to hear.

My face burns with a mix of fury and shame, but the worst part is the way Noah watches me, his eyes flickering with something dark, as if he’s documenting every moment of my downfall.

I want to scream, to say something—anything—but all I can do is stay here on the ground, helpless, as Tia pushes me further into the flames.

“Looks like she’s easy, guys,” Tia sneers, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction as her words sink into the crowd.

The smirk on her lips is infuriating. Her words cut deep, their sting fueling the rage in my veins, especially since the only time I’ve ever had sex was with Noah. To paint me as some easy slut isn’t just unfair—it’s downright insulting. But the worst part? Tia knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s out for blood.

Her laughter rings through the air, bouncing off the walls like a twisted melody. The others follow suit, and I can feel every pair of eyes on me—some amused, others just waiting for me to crack. But I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not today.

I take a deep breath, the sting of humiliation still clawing at my insides, but I refuse to let her win.

I rise to my feet, my legs trembling, but my resolve steadier than ever. I square my shoulders and lock eyes with her. She wants to play this game? Fine. We’ll play. If she thinks she can tear me down, she’s going to have to do it face-to-face—not hiding behind her petty insults and the crowd of assholes she has gathered around her.

“Line up, boys. Seems like she’s down for it,” Tia sneers, her smirk wide and cruel, like she thinks she’s won.

Every muscle in my body tightens with rage, and I march toward her, not caring about the crowd watching. Her eyes flick to the group, searching for their approval, but I won’t give her that satisfaction. Before she can even react, I reach out and snatch the condoms from her hands.

‘You don’t know fucking shit, bitch,’ I snap, stepping right into her space, the words cutting through the air like a blade.

Her eyes widen for a split second, surprise flashing across her face.

She wasn’t expecting this. She wasn’t expecting me to stand up to her. But that hesitation fades in an instant, and she steps back, quickly hiding her shock behind the same smug attitude she always wears like armor.

“Looks like we’ve got a girl who’s ready for all those Fuck Boys,” she mocks, her gaze never leaving mine, as if she’s daring me to react.

I stand there, refusing to look away, letting the tension between us hang heavy in the air. She doesn’t scare me. And if she thinks this is over, she’s got another thing coming.

‘Enough,’ a deep, resonant voice cuts through the chaos, and even before I turn, I know it’s Noah. His tone is commanding, sharp, like a whip cracking through the air.

Within a heartbeat, the laughter and whispers vanish, and the entire hallway falls silent. The shift is immediate. The king has spoken.

Tia spins on her heels, fury flashing in her eyes as she glares at him. She’s pissed, and I can see why—he’s just ruined her little show, and she hates it.

Noah’s eyes shift to me next, and there’s no mistaking the look he gives me. It’s a glare, cold as ice, full of judgment. The kind that makes my stomach knot, but there’s something else there too—something dark… and disappointed.

He turns away, that jaw of his clenched tight, like he’s trying to swallow whatever the hell he’s feeling.

In an instant, the crowd disperses, as if Noah’s spoken and it’s time to go, Reece and Jace following like loyal shadows. But I stay rooted to the spot. My heart pounds in my chest, the silence heavy around me. Tia may have been the one trying to break me, but Noah? His presence—his cold indifference—cuts deeper than anything.

I try to swallow, the lump in my throat making it almost impossible to breathe as I stand there, feeling like I’m naked in front of everyone. The boy who once meant everything to me—who used to look at me like I was his world—is gone. In his place stands a stranger, his eyes now filled with bitterness and hate, as if there’s nothing left of the person I once knew. The warmth, the love, all of it has been replaced with this cold, razor-sharp animosity that cuts through me, chilling me to my core.

And it hurts as I watch him move down the hall.

It’s a reminder that we’ll never go back to what we had. There’s no chance of us being friends again, no way to undo what’s been done. I turn my face back to Tia when she speaks.

‘He’s not yours anymore, bitch,’ she sneers, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction, a cruel smirk playing at the edges of her lips. ‘Might as well face it—he’ll fuck anyone but you.’ She steps closer, and I can feel the venom in her words, her eyes gleaming with the victory she believes she’s claimed. “He fucked me three days ago, and you have no idea what you’re missing out on.”

The words hit, but it’s the way she says them—so casual—that twists the knife deeper. She pauses, her smile widening, darkening. It’s as if she knows exactly how to break me, how to remind me of everything I can’t have.

And I’m right there. Ready to punch that smug look right off her face.

But then she drops the bomb. ‘The way he went down on me… fuck, it blew my mind.”

The sting of her words cuts through everything, and I feel the anger surge, hot and suffocating. The thought of Noah, of him touching her, burns like acid in my chest. That’s the reality now, and it hurts more than I’m willing to admit.

Suddenly, Sam’s hand grabs my arm, holding me back with enough force to stop me from launching at Tia and wiping that smug look off her face. Her new nose, courtesy of daddy’s wallet, wouldn’t stand a chance if I got my hands on it.

Tia catches sight of Sam, and her gaze shifts, the same nasty gleam in her eyes.

“Oh, look, another slut who thinks she has a shot with Reece,” she sneers, her voice dripping with disgust. “He fucked Simone just yesterday. He’s done with you. Told us all about your little hook-up.”

I toss a quick glance at Sam, and for the first time, I see a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. There’s something there—something she doesn’t want me to see—but it’s enough to make me pause.

I don’t press it. Whatever the hell has gone down between her and Reece, it’s clear it’s messing with her. And I’m not about to dig into that kind of pain. Not now. Not when it feels like I’m barely holding it together myself.

I step closer to Tia, getting right in her face until she’s forced to take a step back. “Stay the fuck away from me,” I snarl, every word sharp with fury.

She laughs—and then her lips twist into a vicious sneer. “You forget who the fuck you’re talking to. You’re nothing in this school anymore, and every goddamn day, I’ll make you regret coming back. Mark my words, bitch.”

With that, she spins on her heels and struts her skank ass back to her pack of bitches. Their smirks are as fake as fuck, their overdone makeup trying too hard. They watch me like I’m some ant under a microscope, but I’m done feeling small. They all shift their gaze to Tia like she’s their queen. It’s pathetic. The crowd parts, and she glides through them, her little minions trailing behind her.

I drop to my knees, shoving everything I can back into my bag. Sam kneels beside me, her hands moving quickly to collect the mess that Tia’s made of my things.

This isn’t over—not by a long shot. If that bitch wants to play, then fucking game on.