I'm standing outside the locker room, crammed in with parents, siblings, and the cheer squad in their tiny blue-and-white uniforms. Everglades High just won their first game of the season, so of course the place is packed.
The cheerleaders are squealing and gossiping about Zach—how hot he looked out there, how he basically carried the team, the same crap they say every time. Especially Cici, the cheer captain, who says his name like it's some kind of prayer. It's exhausting.
Like hello? He's more than just a six-pack and a slapshot, thanks.
And then, because the universe hates me, I catch Cici's voice cut through the chatter.
"Ugh, can you believe the fat plum is here again?"
Her friends all snicker, their eyes flicking straight to me like I'm something nasty stuck to their shoes. They've hated me since forever. Not just because in their eyes I'm fat and ugly, but because I'mcloseto Zach. Best-friend close.
The kind of close they'd sell their souls for.
And of course, they had to ruin the one thing that mattered most to me.
Sugarplum.That's what Zach has called me since we were five. He gave me the nickname because he knew how obsessed I was withThe Nutcracker.I wanted to be Clara more than anything—the Sugarplum Princess—and I made him watch every version with me, movies, plays, Broadway shows. Still do.
So yeah, it's not just a nickname. It's ours. My favorite thing in the world.
But Cici twisted it. She turned "Sugarplum" into "Fat Plum." Or worse—"SugarPlump." She spits it out like poison, her little army cackling behind her like it's the joke of the century.
And every time she says it, it feels like she's not just mocking me—she's stomping all over something I treasure.
"She actually thinks she belongs here," one of them says, fake-whispering but obviously loud enough for the entire hallway to hear.
Another one giggles. "It's pathetic. Like, sweetie, this is family and friends only. Not... whatever she is."
Cici smirks, flipping her shiny hair over her shoulder. "Honestly, I don't even get why Zach still talks to her. He's captain now. He could have literally anyone in this school—and he wastes his time on... that."
Cue more giggles.
"She probably thinks he's gonna ask her to prom," one girl singsongs.
"As if Zach would be caught dead showing up with the fat plum on his arm," another chimes in.
Cici doesn't miss a beat.
She leans in closer to her squad, voice pitched just loud enough to stab through the hallway. "Please. If Zach ever did ask her to prom, it'd only be out of pity. No sane guy would actually want a loser like her."
"Exactly," someone echoes, and the whole group bursts into laughter like it's the funniest thing they've ever heard.
I cross my arms tighter, rolling my eyes and ignoring them, even though the heat in my cheeks says otherwise.
Pest. That's all I am to them—something in their way they'd love to stomp on until I disappear.
But despite all the crap Cici and her minions just spat, I can't fight the grin tugging at my mouth.
Because through the doors, chaos is exploding. Sticks banging against lockers. Voices shouting like a frat party. Someone chanting Zach's name like he's already NHL material.
It's messy. It's loud. It's sweaty-boy energy at its finest.
I'm grinning like an idiot now.
Because I'm proud of him. Always am. Win or lose, I know how much Zach puts into this game. How much he bleeds for it, literally and figuratively.
But this year? It's different.
He's captain now. And he wants it all. The wins. The trophy.
