By the time I reach the lot, I’m shaking. My books nearly spill from my hands as I shove them into the backseat of my car. Screw Miles. Seriously.
But even as I tell myself that, the image of his bruised face won’t leave me. The tightness in his jaw. The way he avoided my eyes.
Something happened.
And I hate that I care.
I’m slamming my door shut when a voice calls out, “Chloe!”
I turn to see Bella hurrying toward me, her ponytail bouncing, her lip gloss catching the afternoon sun.
“Hey!” she chirps. “You okay?”
“Long day,” I mutter, forcing a smile.
“Well, perfect timing then,” she says, sliding her sunglasses up her head. “There’s a mixer tonight for all the prospective cheerleaders. You should come if you’re still serious about joining.”
I blink. “Mixer?”
“Yeah. At Delta Phi. Starts at eight. Kind of a get-to-know-you thing. The rest of the captains will be there, some of the guys from the teams too.”
My heart stutters. “Some of the guys?”
Bella grins like she knows exactly what I’m asking. “Some of the hockey team always show up. Mostly to flirt, not that it matters.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I should not care. I should absolutely not be asking this next question.
“Will Miles be there?”
Bella tilts her head, one perfectly arched brow lifting. “Miles Thatcher? Why? You crushing on the bad boy already?”
“No,” I say too fast. “I just… I saw him earlier. He looked… never mind.”
Bella’s smirk softens into something sly. “He shows up sometimes. Depends on his mood. But honestly, who cares? This is about you. You need to get to know the girls. Make friends. Last time we were at The Crest, you were all…” She waves her manicured hand. “Quiet. Kind of stuck-up.”
I blink. “I’m not stuck-up.”
“Then prove it.” She grins, lipstick glinting under the sun. “Come tonight. The password’s‘First Down’.Don’t be late.”
Before I can reply, she’s already walking away, heels clicking on the pavement.
I stand there for a moment, her words echoing in my head.
Stuck up.
My eyes drift back to where Miles was on the corner near the gym. Empty now. Smoke dissipating into nothing.
I tell myself not to think about it, to let it go.
But I can’t shake the image of his split lip, or the sound of his voice when he told me to drop it.
And even as I drive away, even as I tell myself I’m done caring, I know exactly where I’ll be tonight.
Delta Phi looks like something out of a fever dream when I finally walk up the front steps. Music pulses through the walls—something bass-heavy and glittering with synth. The windows glow pink. There’s laughter spilling from every room, the kind that’s half-drunk, half-happy.
Inside, it smells like perfume and citrus vodka. Girls are everywhere—dancing, laughing, shouting over the music. The air feels alive, thick with heat and motion.
Someone presses a drink into my hand before I can even find Bella. “Here,” a girl says, smiling. She’s got a red braid, and freckles dusted across her nose. “You look like you need this.”
