Mila:I won’t.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket, the echo of her words humming through me long after she was gone.
Not together. Not apart. Tangled somewhere in the middle—dangerous territory. And I was already in too deep to crawl out.
CHAPTER NINE
MILA
The day had been a wildfire of bullshit rumors—snaps of laughter in the halls, Elise tossing shade until half the school was running with it.
And Avery—she’d been dragged into it too.
By the last bell, my skull ached from the constant static of it all. Avery and I walked side by side down the corridor, backpacks dragging at our shoulders, straps slipping as we made our way toward the lockers.
“People suck,” she muttered, spinning her lock with more force than necessary. “You would think they’d get bored.”
I leaned against the cool metal next to her. “The fake DMs—they’re not buying that crap, right?”
Her mouth twisted. “Some are. Some aren’t. Doesn’t matter. Once it’s out there…”
“Hey.” I touched her arm, waiting until her eyes met mine. “I get that it hurts—what they’re saying, the way things have been. But it matters. None of that noise is who you are. And anyone who really knows you gets that.”
Her throat worked, and for a second, I thought she would deflect. But then she whispered, “It still feels gross. Like they got inside my phone.”
Anger sparked low. “What did your brother do when he saw it?”
Avery finally cracked a small smile. “Yelled loud enough to scare half the football team. He wanted Elise to regret ever touching my name.”
“And Jax?”
She shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Didn’t say much. Just sat with me. That was… enough.”
“And Chase didn’t have a problem with Jax hanging around you?” I asked carefully. If Jax had been there for her, I hoped Chase had noticed—and maybe started to accept them.
Her eyes flickered, almost relieved. “He wasn’t as mad as I thought. Still pissed, but… he didn’t get in the way. That has to count for something.”
It did. More than something. My chest ached for her—for how fast confidence could be cut down by a lie and how slow it was to build it back again.
I should’ve said more—told her she didn’t have to face it alone. But the weight of my own day pressed too hard, the endless spin of Elise’s games tightening around my ribs.
So instead, I said, “I think I’m going to go home. Screw the committee.”
Avery gave a half-snort, slamming her locker shut. “Best idea you’ve had all week.”
Maybe she was right. My feet carried me toward the exit, intent on disappearing before anyone could drag me back in.
That was when my phone buzzed.
Mom:You’re back on the committee. Don’t argue. Go straight to the meeting. It’ll be “corrected.”
I stopped outside the school, arms folded, staring at the concrete walkway like it might tell me what to do. Confront Elise again? Walk away completely?
The message glowed in my hand, insistent.Corrected. As though this wasn’t sabotage at all. Like this wasn’t Elise. I didn’t reply. I just turned around and walked back inside.
The conference room on the east side of campus was already filling up. Long tables lined the space, surrounded by flawless hair, staged smiles, and the hum of curated laughter.
And there was Elise—perched dead center, a pageant queen in perfect control, binder open, pen in hand. A real hostess moment, perfectly polished. Until she saw me.
