I shook my head, letting a shaky breath escape. “No. I—It’s just… Monday.” My laugh was bitter and short, like the kind you give when the day’s been one long avalanche you couldn’t stop.
Rachel pushed off the door without a word and wrapped her arms around me. Much to my dismay, I found myself dissolving into full blown tears against her shoulder. The soft hand she rubbed against my back helped me to get my breathing under control, bit by bit.
I had no idea how long we stood like that, it could have been a minute or an hour. When I pulled back, she gave me a firm look. “Go wash your face.”
Not bothering to argue, I let my bag slide down my arm and she caught it before I dropped it.
“Go,” she repeated when I would have taken it back.
I made a face at her, and her rather bland yet amused smile told me that it didn’t work in the slightest. I’d just cupped my hands under the water when the door began to creak open.
“Get out,” Rachel snapped at whoever was trying to shoulder their way in.
I couldn’t see past her. The door was only cracked, but that also meant they couldn’t see inside, which was exactly the point.
“The bathroom's occupied,” she added, crisp as a slap.
A muffled voice on the other side tried to argue.
Rachel didn’t even blink. “Did I stutter?”
They tried again, this time it was a little whiny, defensive, and completely unpersuasive.
Rachel sighed, long-suffering and lethal. “Sunshine, take the L and walk away before this gets embarrassing for both of us.”
Silence. Then the unmistakable sound of retreating footsteps as the door shut fully once more. The door stayed shut. Rachel gave a tiny, victorious smirk and leaned back like the battle had been hers all along.
I splashed more water against my face, the tepid tap water helped to cool my flushed cheeks. My throat ached from the suppressed tears and my stomach hurt. I didn’t dare wonder if the day could get any worse, because I personally did not want it to feel like a damn challenge.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Rachel asked as I pulled paper towels out of the dispenser and used them to dry my face. The absorption of these was a joke, but it was better than nothing.
“Not really,” I admitted. “I think…” I blew out a breath, trying to untangle my brain. The weight of it all pressed against my chest, tied my stomach in knots. “Just… not really.”
“Come with me,” Rachel said, voice deceptively soft. “The others are setting up banners. You don’t have to do anything—just exist around people for a bit. Might help.”
Banners?
“Homecoming.” One word. Enough.
The thought of the gym, paint, glitter, chaos, and actual humans made me want to sink into the floor.
“I’ll be with you,” Rachel said, hoisting my backpack like it weighed nothing. She didn’t even have one herself—probably locked it somewhere. She held out her hand, eyebrows lifted. “C’mon. It’ll be fun.”
“You have… an optimistic way of looking at it,” I muttered.
“Optimistic?” She snorted. “Sweetheart, we’re about to turn the gym into a glitter apocalypse. Giant purple banners? Check. Obnoxious sparkles everywhere? Double check. Anyone who dares walk past? They get a free glitter facial. And you—you get to hang out with me while I do it. Fun, chaos, and style points all in one. You’re welcome.”
I blinked. Blinked again. And then—against every instinct to recoil—I laughed. The knot in my stomach loosened a little. Rachel grinned, clearly thrilled with her own flair. Her presence was steady, unflinching, and truth be told, funny as fuck. Somehow that made the decision easier.
“Okay, yeah. Let’s go.” I clasped her offered hand.
“Excellent,” Rachel declared, opening the door and tugging me out.
Rachel tugged me along, weaving through the hall like she had a personal vendetta against straight lines.
“Okay, first off, banners are sacred territory,” she began, voice rising over the distant clang of gym equipment. “Do not—donot—under any circumstances touch the glitter. The glitter is basically alive. It has feelings. And also vengeance. It will find you in your sleep if you evenlookat it funny.”
I blinked.
