First message
I had her pressed back against the lockers after school, Tyler and Evan bracketing me like they always did. The hallway was almost dead quiet, just the hum of the lights and her breathing. She clutched her books like they’d save her, chin high, eyes locked on mine. That look cut deep—steady, defiant—and it burned me, because I wanted her to flinch. Worse, I wanted her to notice me at all.
You think you can just ignore me? I leaned in, voice low. Walk past like I don’t matter?
Her mouth tightened, but she didn’t answer. Tyler gave a laugh, sharp and ugly, and Evan muttered, Cold, man. Real cold. I didn’t need their backup; I barely heard them. All I could hear was my own pulse, hammering with something I couldn’t name, something I hated. So I forced a smile, sharp enough to sting, and said, That’s brave. But brave doesn’t mean smart.