Day 2

shadylane I saw you in the cafeteria yesterday. You sat with your friends only a couple of tables away from me, a weirdo amid strangers. I’m surprised by your social prowess; one day of class and you’re already surrounded. You must be fun. I wish I was more like you, so open and careless, not worried about what people might think or say about me. I bet life feels lighter, less of a burden. Does the girl you like like you back? You seem like the kind of person who’s never known rejection. I hope that never changes.

Well, Jill Clarke didn’t show up for class. My sharp detective skills tell me that her friends didn’t just sit without her at lunch. Do we know what’s going on? Is she sick? My inbox has brought me a multitude of theories without a single piece of evidence to back any of it up. I’m glad you have such fertile imaginations, but we can’t run around on strawmen; that’s not how journalism works! Then again, depending on your news source of choice, that might be how it works… Either way, everyone’s saying she’s in town, so I’m going to assume she’s enrolled with her friends and just hasn’t been in the public eye recently. A couple of you are also saying there’s been a fight between her and the other girls, mainly Ramirez—is that true? If the two have really argued, then it must be very serious. In all the years they’ve known each other, they’ve never fought to the point of not speaking. This isn’t your average feud. If Clarke is the one who stepped away from the others, then what does that say about her? Is she in the wrong, and if she is, does she know it? We need to dig a little deeper.

On the subject of best friends, how is Abby Daniels doing? Personally, if I found my bestie unable to leave somebody else’s side, I’d be pretty upset about it. She never holds my hand anymore. She never sits in my lap. We never kiki—he’s always here, this… guy. His name is Noah Byrd, by the way. It took me a long time to figure that out. Lee arrived on campus with him yesterday, hands clasped together. Considering her boyfriend is the one who always walks her, then he must know about that, right? Right. So, if Jackson’s okay with this, there can only be one explanation for it, but let’s not jump to conclusions. I’m not going to sit here and assume someone’s sexuality based on anything other than what they’ve said about it themselves. It’s just looking that way right now.

Since we’re talking about Jackson, why don’t we finally address the elephant in the room, that his contact with Slate was apparently a secret? Yeah, Woods didn’t know about it. You can imagine his reaction when he found out, the guy who’s banished a former friend to eternal damnation for lying once. How will Jackson fare? Much better, I think. Those two are closer to twins than Woods is to his actual twin, a two-for-one deal whether you like it or not. Lee knows this well. A new and secret acquaintance only served to spark outrage between them. Incidentally, are boys ever sad? Because I only ever see these two angry at each other, not upset. It would be completely understandable for Woods to be upset about this, but I just don’t think he is. Boys are weird. Are they going to fist fight their differences? I have no idea how this works. I am, however, curious to know how Slate will fit into all this.

By the way, if you don’t follow Byrd on social media, go ahead and do it. He’s the one who invited Slate to the frat; he confirmed it yesterday. One less mystery to solve.

A lot of you have been drowning me in theories about Kyller and Slate, which means you’re either not going to Winterville or you’re just a complete shut-in, because he’s the most popular man on this campus and the entire student body knows he’s gay. That’s the only reason she even stood up for him last weekend; there’s obviously nothing between them. They might be friends now, though. I guess I’ll have to add him to my list of high-profile personalities to watch out for… unsurprisingly. The kings and queens of location A meet the kings and queens of location B, worlds collide, alternate versions of the same group of people—it’s pretty obvious they’d get along. I don’t know how our boys will feel about a gay protagonist, but it’s looking like the girls don’t mind it. Kyller probably had a hand in that.

Well, that’s all the time I have for you today. I hope you have fun with your new friends and that the girl of your dreams says yes. I love all my saplings equally.

Yours always,

European Beech

Toby

All these posts ever did for him was let him know just how out of the loop everybody else was. It really did seem like he was the only one with all the information here, even if small details were missing. For example, he had no idea what was going on with the minotaur, but in the grand scheme of things, that barely mattered. Shady Lane, for the most part, just speculated on what was going on with him without actually getting anywhere. Yesterday had been a rare instance, where a private portion of his life was exposed. Usually, that was reserved for Stacy. It served him right for going behind Josh’s back, though. Their argument at practice only hadn’t gone any further because of what Josh thought had happened at the party, a much more worrisome instance than the lie itself. That was a web Toby wasn’t ready to detangle just yet; the benefits were far too great. He couldn’t imagine how much worse it would’ve been otherwise. Josh might’ve outright ostracized him, just like they’d done to Ethan.

Holding Stacy’s hand in his own, he listened to her parents talk about some town meeting they’d organized this morning. They were just as upset about Shady Lane as she was, invested in the posts ever since they’d first brought her up, convinced she was being bullied. While Toby didn’t agree with that, he understood their concern. If he was a girl, his dad would probably be concerned about this kind of stuff as well. Most of it, however, just seemed a bit dramatic. They wanted to put European Beech in jail for broadcasting public information. Sure, some people weren’t supposed to know it, but at the end of the day, if Josh had asked around, he would’ve found out who Toby had been partying with anyway. European Beech just made that stuff easier to find. Real bullying led to bruises, not mildly annoyed friends. Plus, Stacy wasn’t even the only person mentioned on that account. It was just a little difficult to defend her claim when he was, by her own definition, just as much of a victim. It really didn’t feel like that at all.

As far as he could tell, this town meeting basically just informed the parents of European Beech’s return, if they didn’t already know. A lot of them hadn’t shown up; his dad, obviously, and Josh’s parents were a few examples. The mere mention of the Woods set his jaw—he couldn’t remember the last time they’d done anything for Josh. He’d gotten the scholarship all on his own; the least they could do was send him money every other week, which didn’t even happen. They desperately wanted him to find a job just so they could have his money. Last time Toby had checked, it was the parents’ responsibility to provide for their kids, not the other way around. They were infuriating.

Once the call was over, he asked Stacy about Jill, what had been going on with her. The name felt foreign on his tongue, a conscious effort not to call her by the nickname Josh had given her so long ago. It was bad, but it’d stuck because it fit her so perfectly, the face of a woman on the body of a bull. Technically, the minotaur was the opposite, but it still worked. Stacy told him her friend had been distant all summer break, ignoring Ashley’s texts. That was all the girls knew so far. While that must be a devastating development for everyone, he found it particularly positive. He didn’t trust her around Stacy, anyway.

Another, more interesting question was whether Kyller and Slate were actually friends now. Stacy sincerely didn’t know; Kyller hadn’t talked about him, but then, no one had asked her about him either. Stacy should probably do that. The thought came from her with no input of his own; it just happened to align with his interests a little bit too perfectly. No comment followed, though, allowing Stacy to change the subject to something else. She didn’t have to know he cared about that.

Stacy

As expected, Beech was closing in on Noah. If she wasn’t sure of his sexuality yet, then it was clear that his name was the only thing she did know, but it wouldn’t be long until she got to the dirty laundry. Admittedly, Stacy didn’t know much about his past either, only that he’d come from a nearby town, not Silver Creek, had an older brother, wasn’t particularly wealthy and enjoyed going on dangerous dates with strange men. Every Friday worried her more than the last. He was so sweet; she couldn’t imagine anyone laying a finger on him. The thought alone was sickening. Their Friday outings were good, because it forced him to be there after his dates, so she knew he was okay; she could see it on his face, physically present. If he ever happened to be late, she wouldn’t hesitate to call the police. She’d made that clear multiple times before, only to receive an eye roll and a smile in return. That, somehow, didn’t concern him, but Shady Lane did.

“Don’t worry.” She reached across the aisle to take his hand. He squeezed it a bit, eyes down at where they met. “She doesn’t know anything about you yet.”

“How did she find out my name?”

“She knows everyone’s names.”

“Someone must’ve told her. She has an inbox where people tell her things—someone I know must’ve put my name in there.”

Thoughtfully, she nodded. “Maybe someone from our classes, who listens to roll call.”

“Maybe.”

She squeezed his hand this time. “It doesn’t matter,” she reassured him. “They don’t know anything else; you’ll be okay.”

The guest list was a great start to her investigation. She’d already expected most of her high school peers to be on it, considering this was the biggest campus in the region, but the names were still important; she wouldn’t have remembered them all off the top of her head. Other than her close friends, most of these girls barely knew her. The strategy then would be to get to know them one by one; their passions, their drive, the reason they’d enrolled in the first place, and most importantly, what they did in their free time. She didn’t have a very detailed profile yet, only what she’d told her mother last night, that Beech was most likely an awkward loner, so one of those conversations would be off, a little too different from the others. Those kinds of people were hard to miss. Someone would be just a little too suspicious, too dedicated to studying the lives of others instead of living their own. She just needed a little patience to suss them out. Today, she would start with the first.

“Do you guys remember Pamela Clemens?” she asked, eyes down on the list.

“The freak from geometry class?” Abby almost sounded disgusted. “Yeah. I tried talking to her a couple of times, but she ignored me both times. I honestly think she hates me. She used to watch me come in with rage in her eyes, like she hoped I’d explode or something. Honestly, scary.”

“She was obviously jealous of you,” Tiffany commented. “She wishes she looked this good. You can pull off anything. Clemens, on the other hand, can only maybe try on a potato sack—and she’s not even smart! I mean, if you’re gonna be an ugly loser, at least get good grades, right?”

Ashley and Abby both laughed.

“Can you stop it with the fat-shaming?”

Oh god, not this again. Stacy glanced up to see Kyller with her arms crossed while Tiffany stared her down, unamused. The two sat across from each other, lunch half-finished and forgotten before themselves. Kyller had become extremely confrontational this last year, going on a campaign to be the most politically correct person in school, which only meant pointing out everyone else’s derogatory language and problematic behavior. Usually Tiffany’s, the most outspoken of them all. As far as Stacy could tell, nothing but infighting had come out of it.

“I literally did not even use that word,” Tiffany defended. “You’re calling her fat.”

“Like the potato sack comment could’ve meant anything else.”

“Yeah, it meant she has no style. Were you absent when Mrs. Colter taught us how to interpret a text? That works with people too, you know. Here, read my lips.” A finger came up to point at Tiffany’s face while she mouthed the words shut up.

“You could’ve just said she doesn’t know how to dress, but you didn’t. The potato sack comment was very intentional.”

“I didn’t picture a fat girl when she said that,” Noah jumped in. “I just pictured someone ugly, like zits on her face and a pig nose and stuff.”

“That’s so racist. A pig nose, really? That’s what makes someone ugly now?”

“I didn’t picture a black girl at all.”

“Yeah, that’s another problem. No one ever does.”

“Don’t bother, Noah.” Tiffany rolled her eyes. “She’s gonna find something to nitpick about no matter what you say.”

“Sorry for thinking that someone’s weight or race doesn’t make them any less beautiful.”

“Everyone agrees with you!” Tiffany practically shouted.

“Can we get back on track here?” Abby cut in. “I don’t know why you’re defending someone who literally tried to blow me up with her mind. She is a fat pig, like… why are we dancing around that fact? I hate her.”

“Hating someone is no excuse to talk about them this way.”

“Um, it absolutely is? I’m obviously never gonna say it to her face, but if we ever talk again, I’m not gonna pretend we’re best friends either. It’d be really fucked up to fake how I feel about her.”

“So you’re just gonna make her feel like trash because you don’t like her.”

“No. Why would I do that? I’m just not gonna sugar-coat how I feel about her to you, because no one here is friends with her. If any of you cared about her, I obviously wouldn’t call her an ugly and fat stupid bitch.”

Without another word, Kyller got up and left. Abby simply rolled her eyes.

“What’s her problem?” Noah asked. “It’s like she’s always in a bad mood.”

“She’s been doing this social justice thing where she pretends to care about everyone in the world, which makes us look really bad,” Tiffany explained. “She honestly thinks we’re the mean girls.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah!” Abby’s tone was matter of fact, sounding exactly like a stereotype from the movies. It was on purpose, of course, pulling laughter from the table. “Anyway, why are you asking about her, Stace? Do you think it’s her?”

“Maybe. I mean, she’s on the list. We’re meeting later today so I can try and figure that out.”

“What are you talking about?” Ashley asked. Her voice was much lower than the other girls’, hair tucked behind an ear. It was so straight that the top of her ear poked out from it, always by her snapback. Stacy didn’t blame Noah for thinking she was a lesbian, because she absolutely dressed like one.

“I’m trying to figure out who Beech is.”

“What are you gonna do then?”

That was a great question. “I’m not sure. I guess… I just want to ask her why she’s doing this and if she could please stop.”

“She’s clearly doing it because she’s a bitter bitch,” Tiffany jumped in. “That’s the only reason anyone would be so obsessed with us.”

“You know, maybe she’s obsessed with Toby,” Abby mused. “Her posts are always about him in a way. She makes them seem like they’re about Josh, but they really aren’t. I think she has a crush on him.”

“Seriously?” Tiffany sounded extremely underwhelmed. “I don’t know; I think her obsession with Josh is genuine. She won’t stop talking about him.”

“What if it’s not about either one of them?” Ashley tried. “Maybe she just likes the drama and she knows she can get it here.”

No, Stacy was pretty sure this girl was just obsessed with her.

“All of those things could be true.” Noah shrugged. “I guess we’ll only know for sure when Stace unmasks her.”

Noah

The end of his pencil tapped on the desk. It’d been deceptively easy to change math classes; he’d done it with a single email, and then, in person, signed a document. The very next day, he was able to sit in on Prof. Johnson’s lecture. Of course, that meant moving his 2 p.m. up a few slots, but overall, it hadn’t given him as much grief as he honestly thought it would. Luckily, these classes weren’t particularly full or he probably would’ve failed his endeavors. Fate had a funny way of working things out.

To his utter surprise, Toby was the first familiar face that walked into the room, followed by his annoying friend whose name Noah hadn’t caught and then his primary target, the whole reason he’d gone through the trouble of doing all this in the first place. He thought Jack would’ve been alone. Their brief meeting yesterday had been private, without his friends hanging about. Then again, they might’ve walked in ahead without Noah noticing. Shit. How would he go about doing this now? There wasn’t a single opportunity that he could take advantage of—unless, of course, he was to create it. If he walked up to Jack, amid his straight friends, and asked for a minute alone. It’d be suicide. Jack had almost murdered him last Saturday just because he’d attended; he was on edge. It really wouldn’t take much to push him over.

Toby spotted him first, scowling with confusion. Despite being the second person whom Stacy had introduced Noah to, the two of them really didn’t know each other as much as they probably should by now. They had gone out every weekend for the last two weeks, yet partying together hadn’t brought them any closer. Both Toby and Slate were very uninterested in hanging out; they preferred to drink and dance, which was what always ended up happening. It was only when Stacy went out with the girls—plus Noah—that they actually got a chance to talk. He knew her friends a lot better than her boyfriend. For that reason, and mostly because of what had happened last weekend, he didn’t put it past those guys to treat him much worse than they’d treated Slate. Considering Slate didn’t have a scratch on him, he’d gotten off easy. A slap on the wrist, really.

Like sharks to the scent of blood, the three came straight over to him. The annoying friend looked mildly confused while Jack was absolutely horrified. Noah could see it on his face, how wide his eyes were, face as pale as the moon. He followed the other two a couple of steps behind, almost lethargic, but Noah knew it was the shock that coursed through his veins. Toby took the desk next to his, the nameless friend took the one in front and Jack took the one in front of Toby, boxing Noah against the wall. He was absolutely done for. In retrospect, he should’ve known these three would be taking every single class together; they’d probably made their schedules with that in mind.

“Were you always in Prof. Johnson’s class?” Toby asked. There was no rage or disgust in his voice; he sounded genuinely confused. It was Noah’s opportunity to lie and make this less awkward for everyone.

“Yeah, I just couldn’t make it yesterday.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me.” The explosive emotion in Jack’s voice, firm and violent, promptly seized Noah’s attention. Their eyes met like thunderbolts, electrifying the air around them, hairs standing on end. Every time he spoke, red flags popped up, one after the other. His entire existence was a red flag in itself, really. Even in the most dire of circumstances, however, with his life hanging by a thread, Noah couldn’t help the thrill that raced down his spine, just present enough to get noticed, a reminder that—despite everything—he kind of got off on this. The blond of Jack’s hair was almost red in the afternoon sun, eyes as light as a breath in the winter, practically white. The freckles that adorned his nose were far too adorable to belong on someone as dangerous as he was. “You were literally here yesterday,” Jack continued. “I saw you.”

“Is that your gotcha moment? Because all my classes are in this building; they’re just upstairs. I couldn’t come yesterday because Stacy needed me for something. You saw me going upstairs, didn’t you? I was going to see her.” What a carefully crafted lie. He was pretty proud of that one.

“She has class in the afternoon,” Toby rebutted. Shit, right, her boyfriend would know what she had actually done. “Did she ditch?”

“No, she just wanted to talk to me, so I sat in on her class. We spent pretty much the whole afternoon going over these theories that she has about who European Beech is.” Wait, this was it, the opening he’d been looking for. All he needed was to get the message across; it didn’t have to be in private. “She said this girl is ruining her life and will come for her friends next, which means I should be worried, I guess.”

His eyes remained on Jack the entire time, yet nothing really changed there, no reaction twisted his features at all. Had he gotten the message? It was pretty hard to miss. Noah couldn’t imagine a more obvious way to say it without coming right out and saying it, so it’d either flown way past Jack’s head somehow, or he was just really good at keeping his feelings from showing.

“Who’s European Beech?” the unnamed friend asked.

“Some stalker who writes about us like we’re famous or something,” Toby explained. “Stace’s trying to figure her out.”

“Did you really skip class just to be with her all day?” Jack interrupted. “Jesus, that’s some dedication. Yo, TJ, you better watch out, man; he might not be what we think he is. Maybe he’s just really fucking smart.”

Okay, there was no telling whether he’d gotten the message or not; all Noah could do was hope. Jack had always seemed very smart, so this might just be a stellar performance on his part, incredibly believable nonchalance.

“Uh, yeah, no, I don’t—I don’t think I need to worry about him. I think I’m fine.”

“Toby’s right,” Noah cut in. “The men I’ve been with would tell you the same. Last weekend is a testament to that.”

The mere mention of the party was enough to wipe out any trace of entertainment from Jack’s face. His jaw set so hard that Noah could see it, face that much more angular now. The way he sat, twisted around to glance back at Noah, placed a hand on the backrest of his own chair, which gripped it now, knuckles bleached white. To think that, only two nights ago, that same hand had been on Noah’s arm, squeezing it just as hard. It wouldn’t be surprising if he broke the chair entirely.

“Was it Slate?” Toby’s question was so outrageous that Noah couldn’t help the wide-eyed look he gave in return.

“No! Just because we’re the only queers you know doesn’t mean we’re automatically together. Don’t get me wrong, he’s hot, but…” He very pointedly glanced at Jack for the next part. “He’s not my type.”

Blue eyes squinted. In a very smart move, Jack preserved his silence. It was crystal clear that, at this point, Noah was in such big trouble that, if Jack still cared to see him after this, it would only be to bash his face in. Otherwise, he’d have to be into the same depraved stuff Noah was into, in which case, they might just have the best sex of their lives yet. It was a gamble, and well, Noah wasn’t completely free of addiction.

“Okay,” Toby continued. “I’m assuming we don’t know who that is, then.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter, does it?” Jack snapped. “Why do you want to fucking know? Are you interested or something? Wish it were you?”

“Fuck off; I was just wondering if we knew the guy, is all. We could be hanging out with more queers than we thought.”

“No, not we—you. You could be. I know exactly who surrounds me; you’re the only one who doesn’t.”

With that, Jack turned back around to face the front of the room. It was enough indication that the conversation was over. Obediently, the other two fell silent and redirected their attention as well, puppies under their master. It was cute in the same way bears were cute—unprovoked and from a great distance.

There was absolutely no approaching Jack after this. Noah’s efforts might’ve only put him in a worse situation than before. On the bright side, he was now able to stare into the side of Jack’s face for an entire hour uninterrupted.

He thought this had been it, that their little squabble had ended here. What he hadn’t expected—and from the looks on their faces, what Jack’s friends also hadn’t expected—was the order he gave Noah to follow. Once class was done, they all got up and left the classroom together, the four of them. It felt nothing short of bizarre. A very real sense of dread crept up Noah’s spine as he followed Jack down the hallway and into the men’s restroom. Jack held the door open for him, daring him to go in without a single word—blue eyes cut through the space between them like a knife. Standing in the doorway, Noah turned around to glance back at the other two. While they clearly didn’t know what was about to happen either, one was far more entertained than the other; Toby looked like he was about to cry.

“Can’t we talk… here?”

Just as the question left his lips, two hands found the front of his hoodie, and grabbing it hard, threw him to the floor. It happened so fast he couldn’t even react; before he knew it, he was landing on a shoulder. Jack was the first thing he saw, towering over him as the door swung back and forth. The lights on the ceiling shone a halo over his head, hair bright white. A leg moved. Instinctively, Noah put his arms up in front of his face, but nothing happened; the toe of Jack’s shoe never connected. He’d only made to kick Noah.

“We’re not your fucking friends,” Jack shouted. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing talking to us? Following me around? What are you, deranged? TJ isn’t your friend; never has been. You’re not seeing him anymore, got it? You or Slate. I see either of you talking to him, I’ll fucking end you. I’ll hurt you both. My foot will actually meet with your face. If I were you, I’d quit this class and leave us all alone.”

Under regular circumstances, Noah would talk back. After all, he had the right to be in that math class just as much as anybody else. This, however, was no regular circumstance. He was lucky Jack hadn’t hurt him outright. The hope goblin nestled in his chest told him it was because Jack still wanted him, that he still had a chance, even if it was a longshot. So, out of self-preservation, he let Jack have the last word and walk out. His cowardly friends followed, letting the door swing once again, not closed, not open.

Sitting up, he breathed in. His heart beat a mile a minute, punching him in the chest. An absent hand came up to touch it—holy shit. What had just happened?

Stacy

It was by sheer luck that she caught sight of Kyller, a familiar figure in the corner of her eye. Usually, she would be going to the girls’ meetup spot by now, but today was an important day—Clemens was waiting for her. Kyller sat on a half wall that fenced the garden, leaning over her phone, shoulders hunched, elbows on her thighs. Her black shorts peeked out from under the hem of her pleated skirt, long hair hiding her face. Stacy approached with tentative steps. Once her shoes slipped into view, Kyller glanced up to look at her. The screen quickly locked.

“Hey.” Stacy’s tone was quiet, hand gripping the strap of her backpack. “Are you okay? You stormed off earlier.”

Red eyes rolled. “I’m fine; I’m just… tired, you know? Everyone’s so toxic. I just want to have one conversation where we don’t make fun of girls we don’t like. Is that too much to ask?”

Stacy’s shoulders rose into a shrug that never fell.

“I know the things we say aren’t always the nicest, but the people we talk about aren’t very nice either.”

“Can’t there be kind words for everybody? Not everyone is a complete monster. They were talking about Clemens like she was convicted of murder.”

“Sure, everyone has qualities worth admiring; we just… didn’t see those qualities when talking to her, I guess. We talk about what we know. I just don’t think you should feel bad for someone who wasn’t even there to hear it.”

“That’s exactly why these conversations are so toxic; Clemens couldn’t even defend herself.”

“She also never heard the attack.”

“How would you feel knowing people are talking about you behind your back?”

“I mean, they probably are, but it’s what they say to my face that matters.”

“So they can lie to everyone as long as they don’t lie to you.”

“Being nice to someone you don’t like isn’t the same as lying; it’s just good manners. We’re not going to start a fight with everyone we don’t like. What would be the point of that? The girls were just being catty.”

“Oh my god, Stace, if you came here just to defend your right to shit-talk other people, I’m just gonna leave.”

“That’s not what I’m doing; I just don’t understand why you always act like you’re the one being talked about.”

“I might as well be! If you’re so comfortable talking about everyone else, why wouldn’t you talk about me too?!”

“Because you’re our friend! We care about you. We like you.”

“Do you? Because if Tiff were here, she’d disagree.”

“She’s just frustrated, you know that. If she didn’t like you, you would absolutely know that by now. You can call us phonies and liars all you want, but she’s the one person who always says it as it is. Isn’t that why you got along in the first place?”

Dark lips pursed in distaste. “I just don’t think what she’s doing is right. She’ll say all those things about Clemens, but not to her face. It’s immoral. I’m tired of her hypocrisy. I’m tired of the negativity too; I just want to hear good things about people sometimes.”

“Well, she’s always complimenting Abby.”

“Yeah, Abby. Everybody else gets the chop.”

Stacy cocked her head aside, eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit—why did Kyller feel so hurt by Tiffany? She saw herself in every single one of Tiffany’s victims, everyone Tiffany made fun of. This back and forth between them had been going on for a while too, over a year now. Something must’ve pulled them apart. Stacy took a seat next to her friend, arms folded over her own knees. “She is kind of singling Abby out, huh?”

“Yeah, she only ever has kind words for her. It’s like the rest of the world is worthless. She’s so mean for no reason.”

“Have you told her that?”

“Of course I have; she just doesn’t listen to me. I’m obviously not worth her time.”

Well, there it was, then.

“She is kind of like that, you know. She’ll listen to you, then she’ll ignore you; it doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you or care about you.”

“What does it mean when she ignores you for an entire month?”

“I don’t know. I think you should ask her.”

Kyller shook her head. “It’s not like I haven’t tried; it’s just pointless. Whatever.” Red eyes glanced over, droopy under heavy makeup. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a downer; those girls just make me feel bad.”

Stacy reached over and took her friend’s hand, squeezing it. The way she saw it, there was only one solution to this—she’d have to speak with Tiffany herself. It wouldn’t be easy; much like Abby, Tiffany was a tough nut to crack, but she’d done it before. Every time there was a disagreement between the girls, Stacy was the one on-call to fix it. It’d always been that way.

“They love you; they’re just bad at showing it.”

A weak smile tugged onto Kyller’s lips, never truly materializing. It didn’t really seem like she’d bought that at all.

“What about Slate?” Stacy tried next. “I bet he appreciates what you did at the frat.”

“He’s nice.” Kyller shrugged. “We only hung out for a little bit, though. I’ve texted him a couple of times since, but he never replies to my texts; he just invites me to whatever party he’s going to that evening and that’s where our convo always ends. He doesn’t really wanna chat.”

“Really? That’s… I don’t know; not what I expected. I thought you’d be friends by now. It really looked like you hit it off after the fight.”

“I thought so too.” Kyller’s voice was quiet, clearly upset. She kept her eyes down, hair tucked behind an ear—Stacy hadn’t helped at all. Guilt wrapped a hand around her heart and squeezed it. In turn, she squeezed Kyller’s hand.

“Hey,” she whispered. “I love you.”

That was the only thing that managed to put a genuine smile on Kyller’s lips, even if small. “I love you too, Stace.”

Noah

Two blond braids rested over Tiffany’s shoulders, bright against the black of her t-shirt. Pink bubblegum popped, eyes down at her phone screen, light freckles dusted over her nose. Unlike the other girls, she wore very little makeup, what some people would consider a more natural look; pastel colors, long eyelashes, rosy lips. Silver necklaces shone white over her top, bracelets on her wrists. “Do you guys remember Chris?”

“Chris who?” Abby asked.

It was just the three of them today, since Kyller never returned from her dramatic exit and everyone else was busy. Abby had the head of the table, phone loosely held in a hand. Her eyes were up at Tiffany, face turned just the slightest bit away from Noah.

“Josh’s new friend, a big guy. We talked at the frat last weekend. He seems nice.”

The name alone froze Noah’s heart in his chest. A sheet of ice crawled up his lungs, injected into his veins—his shoulder still hurt, his arm was still bruised. Jack’s face came to mind, blocking the restroom light as he’d hovered over him. Strangely, the memory came accompanied with affection. Jack definitely hated him, but the feeling wasn’t mutual. While Noah hadn’t deserved it, he still couldn’t say it’d been unprovoked. He’d had it coming.

Tiffany flipped her phone around to show them a picture. Chris stood in the shade with an arm across Jack’s shoulders and Toby off to the side. In the background, a swimming pool directly in the sun—the quarter’s backyard. Noah still remembered it. All three looked very excited; Chris had a smile on his face, while Jack smirked with a beer in hand and Toby stuck his tongue out, clearly intoxicated. Considering they were all shirtless, Noah didn’t think it’d been taken during the party. This was probably just a regular day at the frat. He couldn’t help ogling them up and down, eyes glued on Jack despite himself, the size of his arms, the tan of his skin. So Chris was the friend’s name, huh? Good to know.

“Hot or not?” Tiffany asked.

“Hot,” the other two promptly agreed.

“I love a man that can crush me to death,” Abby continued.

“Ethan could never.”

“No, but it’s fine; he has other qualities.” A sly little smirk sharpened her lips. She turned back around, chin resting on a hand.

“Can I see him?” Noah asked.

That prompted her to find him a picture. Her boyfriend posed for a selfie with her, dark eyes up at the camera, white hoodie on dark skin. A smile widened his lips, messy beard along his jaw. Part of his face rested against her hair. Instead of smiling, her lips were only slightly parted, eyes half-lidded with glamor.

“My god, do you know anyone who’s not a supermodel?”

“Yeah, I’m looking at him right now,” Tiffany joked. It only served to put a smile on his face.

“So I’m the ugly mug of the group, okay. I’ve been humbled.”

Both girls laughed.

“I’m obviously kidding; you’re cute.”

“You have a lot of potential to be very handsome,” Abby added. “You just need a haircut.”

“And some concealer.”

“Your eyes are easily the nicest thing about you.”

“You also have a nice smile.”

“True. I love round teeth; they’re so cute.”

“You’re like a little mouse.”

“Is that a compliment?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be? Mice are adorable. Do this.” Tiffany scrunched up her nose, clearly imitating the animal. He mimicked it. “See? Just like one.”

“Getting back to that picture,” Abby interrupted. “Why are you asking about him, Tiff? Have you been talking or something?”

“No, but… I think I want to. We only talked for a little bit; I was at the bar when he showed up. He called me pretty.”

“Is that all it takes?” Noah asked. Tiffany rolled her eyes in response, smiling anyway. “Man, you’re so easy. Tiff, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen—now fall in love with me.”

“Shut up; I’m not easy. He was just like—I don’t know. He was just nice. I wanna get to know him better.”

“How are you gonna go about doing that? Josh is a massive roadblock. He’s gonna try and stop you at every turn,” Abby argued.

“That’s the only reason I haven’t done anything about it yet. I don’t know if I should tell him or go behind his back somehow.”

“I think there’s only one answer.”

“Does everyone hate Josh Woods?” Noah asked. “You talk about him like he’s the devil.”

“No, only Stacy does,” Tiffany corrected. “We just think he’s difficult.”

“He’s one of those people who don’t think they’ve ever lost an argument,” Abby added.

“Has he dated any of you?”

They both very passionately told him that he hadn’t.

“He is strictly off-limits,” Abby explained. “Always has been.”

“Although, I don’t know if you remember this, but when Stacy first met him, she thought he was cute.”

“Really? I don’t remember that at all,” Abby spoke around a grin. “That’s so funny. I can’t even picture them in the same room together without an epic battle breaking out. If she ever finds out about this, we’re dead.”

“Noah, if you value your life, then keep this between us.”

“Scout’s honor.” He held two fingers up. “Do you think she still has a crush on him?”

“No.”

“Definitely not.”

“If she could, she’d shoot him on sight.”

“Does he hate her too?” he asked.

The response was overwhelmingly positive, combined with nods.

“Why don’t you like him? This feels like such a fifth-grade feud. If he’s as easy as Beech says he is, then why isn’t everyone getting on that? I mean, he’s hot. We all agree he’s hot, right? Am I crazy?”

“No, babe, this beef goes way back,” Abby explained. “We have so much history. If you knew half of what’s gone down between him and Stace, you’d understand the position we’re in. Not to mention he’s Toby’s bestie, which could get so messy, so fast.”

“Also, he’s my brother, so.”

“What?” He stared at her. Her eyebrows raised, just as thick as Jack’s; freckles across her nose, strawberry blond hair, light blue eyes… oh my god. “Holy shit, he is, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, we’re twins, and I really don’t want anyone getting on that, like you said.” Her fingers quoted the air. “That’s gross. Imagine having to hear about your brother from one of his lays. Ew.”

“How didn’t I notice that? You look just like him.”

Tiffany shrugged.

“If his friendship with Chris turns out to be real, then going for him might be a bad move,” Abby commented. “You know that, right? It could get awkward real fast.”

“He’s only known the guy for two weeks; if we start dating, then Chris will be less Josh’s friend and more my boyfriend.”

Abby’s head tilted side-to-side as she pondered that. Eventually, she frowned. “I could see it. In that case, you should probably act fast, before they get too close.”

“What should I tell him?”

“I think a good excuse would be if you asked Josh to go somewhere with you and he just happened to bring Chris along.”

“Or you could wait until Saturday,” Noah suggested. “They’re throwing another party at the frat, right? Talk to him then. I don’t think they’ll become best friends in three days.”

Tiffany deliberated for a moment. “I’ll see if I can think of an excuse before then, but if everything fails, it’s good to know I’ll have something to rely on anyway.”

“Is your brother very protective of you or something?”

“Not really. I just don’t think he’d want me dating his friends, the same way I don’t want him dating my friends.”

“Has he tried to?”

“No. I mean, he and Abbs used to be really close, but I don’t think he liked her that way.”

“No, definitely not,” Abby clarified. “And I was never into him either.”

“But he’s been in a relationship before,” Noah assumed.

“Sure, they’ve just never lasted very long. I think the longest was what, two weeks?”

“That girl from the Catholic school, right? Jenny or something.”

“Gina.”

“Yeah, Gina; that’s her name. She was so pretty. Every girlfriend—” Abby quoted the air. “—he’s ever had has been really pretty. Say whatever you want about him; the man has taste.”

“Why are you asking so many questions about him?” Tiffany scowled. “Do you have a crush on him or something?”

“No,” Noah quickly defended. Heat rose up his neck, prickling his cheeks. “I just… don’t know anything about him—or Toby. They’re obviously important people, so... Man, fuck you.” He reached across the table to shove her, but was only able to push on her hands. It put a big grin on her face.

“No way. Oh my god, Noah, you totally have a thing for him!”

“Shut up. He’s… hot. Whatever!”

Abby hid her mouth behind a hand. “Oh, babe, this isn’t worth it. Trust me.”

“Don’t tell him!”

“And get you hurt?” Tiffany gave him the most judgmental look he’d ever seen, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. “Please, we wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It’s bad enough that you have a crush on him already; you don’t need to go and get beat up over it too.”

If only she knew just how close he was to that exact situation.

Toby

Even though his teeth grinded and his head pounded, he still didn’t hate Christian. Despite how he felt, the man was innocent. The real instigator here was Josh, who just couldn’t stop eating up every single word that left the guy’s mouth. It was infuriating. Toby hated this room more than anywhere else in the world, and now, he hated Top Gun too. Josh just had that much power over him. His hands squeezed into tight fists, arms crossed over his chest as Tom Cruise recited one of his favorite lines. The worst part was Josh elbowing Christian with that big, dumb grin on his face—why? This was their movie. That was their favorite line, not Josh and Christian’s. His chest burned.

Less than ten minutes later, he got up and walked out. This just wasn’t worth it. The aggravation was too much to handle and he absolutely didn’t want to lose it right in front of Josh; it wouldn’t help his case. So, he went back to his room and jumped on his bed. His eyes promptly glanced at Josh’s empty side, taking notice of his absence as if Toby hadn’t been the one to leave. Josh could be such an idiot sometimes. The restroom came to mind, blood growing cold. Josh’s hands on Noah’s hoodie, the force he’d used to push him down. Jesus, how could he have done that? A noose tightened around Toby’s throat. If Josh learned what had truly happened last Saturday, the one on the floor could’ve been him.

Slumping against the headboard, he pulled his phone out. His fingers hovered over the keys, not pressing anything—how to do this? Ironically, it’d be the first time he and Noah had texted each other outside of the group chat, which he’d never participated in anyway. His heart rate quickened, lungs pulling in shallow breaths.

If any of this got out, he was a dead man. He didn’t even want to know what Josh would do to Noah. It wasn’t that he particularly cared for the guy very much; this whole situation just felt like a mirror at this point. The game of Jenga he played only became more dangerous, more careless. It was imperative that Josh never found out what had happened between him and Slate. A tap on the screen brought up a prompt asking whether he was sure he wanted to delete this chat, and another one wiped it clean.

Noah

A drop-down notification fell over the top of his screen with horrifying news. His thumb froze immediately, breath catching in his throat—Jack had never called him before. They both knew it was possible, that the app gave them the option to talk and even see each other on camera, but they’d never done it. Until now, apparently. The fact Jack had unblocked him for this only made it worse. He hesitated—Jack must be really pissed. Then again, if he didn’t pick up, it’d only worsen the guy’s mood. He was so volatile that Noah was genuinely scared to make him angry. Toby knew his address. If Jack really wanted to, he’d simply get it from his friend and march on over. A worse outcome was simply impossible to picture, so Noah accepted the call and put the phone to his ear.

“What were you trying to do?” Jack’s voice was low, yet devoid of anger. Noah was unable to pinpoint the emotion in it, if there even was one. “Were you trying to piss me off or scare me? Because you’re only good at one of those and I’m way better at the other one. You practically pissed yourself in the restroom, didn’t you? You really thought I’d kick the shit outta you.”

The slight scoff that followed informed Noah that the emotion he was supposed to be reading here was scorn. So… Jack wasn’t mad at him? Suddenly, he was very confused. It would still be prudent to reply conservatively however, as if Jack were about to come over and murder him anyway, because he damn well might. He was utterly unpredictable, which was both terrifying, yet also, kind of… interesting. What was he capable of?

“Yeah, you got me good. I totally thought you hated me.”

“Well, I don’t like you, that’s for sure.”

Was that true or was he joking again? Noah literally couldn’t tell the difference. Since this seemed to be going well though, he decided to take it as a joke. “If it makes you feel any better, I absolutely hate your guts, so we’re even, I think. I do have a free pass to throw you on the floor, though.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Sounds like bait. If I get my hands on you, you might chop them off.”

Jack scoffed out a laugh. “Seriously, though. We can’t be hanging out in math class. I need you to switch with somebody.”

“There’s an easy fix for that; we just won’t talk. We won’t interact at all. I mean, that’s the problem, right? That Toby and I talk, so we’ll just stop. We don’t even need to sit near each other. I really don’t know why he came over like we’re friends.”

“Aren’t you? You go out all the time.”

“Not really. I think the first time we actually talked was this afternoon. I don’t, like… know him.”

“Don’t he and Slate hang out?”

“Only when we party together. I don’t think they hang out just the two of them.” Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. “Why are you asking? Jealous I’ll steal your bestie?”

“No, cross-examining. Making sure no one’s lying to me. I knew he’d been partying with Stacy, but I didn’t know you and Slate were there too.”

“Dude, Toby’s like, one of the first people I met on this campus. You’re also up there, but you know, for different reasons.”

“How well does he know Slate?”

“I don’t know, not well. When we hang out, he only really talks to Stacy. He’s kind of her lap dog. Good for him, honestly; that’s probably how you maintain a long-lasting relationship.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who misses class to hear her delusions. I know what he gets in return, but what about you? Is your reward Scooby snacks?”

“You couldn’t possibly fathom what the rewards might be. Your feeble mind just couldn’t handle it.”

“Anything near what I can give you?”

Suddenly, Noah hesitated, lips parted. He really thought that Saturday, coupled with this morning, had completely erased any chances of them ever getting together again. It was the reason Jack had blocked him, wasn’t it? He was pissed, or he had been. Noah had angered him on two separate occasions now, one of which had cut all contact between them, so what was this? He honestly didn’t believe Jack would ever flirt with him again. “I think you know the answer to that,” he replied, playing it cool since he absolutely didn’t know what to think right now. Nothing made sense. Was Jack angry at all?

“Yeah. Unfortunately, if I see you in math tomorrow, I’ll be forced to rip your spine out. Can’t break your back like that.”

Despite everything, that still managed to steal a smile from him. “I’m sure there’s a way to fake that. Something like Saturday night, where you were so convincing I totally thought you were mad at me. You’re good at that.” There, bait to make them finally talk about it, so he could at least get some closure on what that had been about.

“I was pretty pissed off, but then nothing happened. For this to work, I need to keep you away from me. There’s a distance to be respected or I’ll have to keep bullying you in the restroom.”

For this to work? Wait, so this was still happening? Jack had just sent Noah’s entire world flying in one fell swoop, a rug snatched from right under his feet. So last Saturday had angered him, thus the block, but apparently, seeing Noah in class today had fixed it somehow. What a weird turn of events.

“Maybe I want you to do that,” he pushed, because Jack might be into it too. It might be the reason this afternoon had turned things around in the first place.

“Well, I don’t and I’m not going to. Don’t make me. I see you tomorrow, I have to hurt you.”

Okay, never mind. He was still just as confused as ever. “It’s a date, then.”

“Don’t be stupid; I’m bigger than you. You can’t fight me.”

“Who said it was gonna be a fight? I’ll just let you do it.”

“Are you seriously gonna twist my arm? Noah Byrd, if you drop Johnson’s class right now, I’ll see you every Friday after class. It’s a promise.”

“I’ll only do it if there’s an elective we can take together instead.”

“You know there fucking isn’t. TJ is in every one of my classes, electives included.”

“So? Find something we can take together. Squeeze me into your schedule.”

“Fuck no. You either take the deal or my fist is meeting with your face tomorrow afternoon.”

“Better have a Band-aid at the ready, then.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. I won’t stop seeing you just because your stupid friends are also gonna be there. I’m not insane; I’ll be cool. I’m not gonna do what I did today.”

“You’re not gonna stop seeing me—that’s the point. You need to stay away from them for this to work. I’ll see you by myself.”

“I don’t want that.” It slipped. He really hadn’t meant to say it, far too personal. They weren’t ready for this yet. There might still be a way to fix it, though; he just had to be fast, keep talking before Jack could think about that too much. “We’re already in each other’s lives, friends of friends who know each other. It’d be weirder if we didn’t talk. As far as everyone knows, you’re just Toby’s friend who also happens to be in my math class. Whether you like seeing me there more than he does doesn’t need to be disclosed.”

A moment passed in silence. The absolute stillness on Jack’s end informed Noah of his perfect solitude, how he’d probably locked himself in his room and then climbed into the closet just to make double sure no one would ever hear him. He was a bright man, calculated. It’d been made pretty clear by now that every single one of his moves had been on purpose, including this afternoon. Saturday might’ve been an outlier, now that Noah thought about it; emotional and reckless, the actions of a drunk man blinded by rage. On any regular day, Jack would’ve never followed him around that corner.

“Next you’re gonna tell me there are no implications.”

“There are no implications,” Noah echoed. “I don’t know you.”

That might’ve been exactly what Jack had been hoping to hear, because not too long after, the line cut off—end of discussion. He did that a lot. Noah only didn’t take it personally because he’d seen him do it with his friends too.

Toby

Pictures flew past the screen, increasingly uninteresting. Slate, for some reason, kept a plethora of weird posts on his profile without a single selfie to break it up. Most people—normal people—were the opposite, with selfies galore and maybe one or two landscapes or meal shots to diversify their timeline a bit. It was very frustrating to have to scroll for so long and still not receive an award at the end. Toby got all the way to the bottom for nothing. So, the next step then would be to check other people’s posts that had Slate tagged on them. That was when he finally found some worthwhile content, mostly innocuous pictures that Slate either didn’t know were being taken, or posed for pretending he didn’t know they were being taken.

One of them was close to what Toby had been looking for, posted by someone named Logan. Slate stared at the guy next to him, skin glowing bright against a pitch-black background, probably lit up by a campfire in the middle of nowhere. His brown eyes were black in the picture, lips pulled at the slightest hint of a smile, hair brushed neatly to the side. Two fingers pinched the screen and zoomed in on his face, the look in his eyes, so sweet and genuine—he must really like whoever sat next to him. Was this how he looked at Toby too? The thought was probably just wishful thinking, but he couldn’t help wondering. If he’d only noticed the intensity of Slate’s stare a few days ago, then he’d most likely missed every other time Slate had glanced at him.

He really wanted to text him. The chat client was right there, open on his name, just waiting for Toby to have enough courage to make a huge mistake. The most difficult part was knowing what to say. There were so many questions he wanted to ask; what Slate would do when he finally went to him, if he’d thought about it as much as Toby had, body and soul completely engulfed, and if there was even a single bone in his body that was remotely nervous. Considering this would probably just be another day in the life, he must not even be worried. If anything, excitement was all he probably felt. The thought closed a fist around Toby’s throat, skin crawling with dread—was this a bad idea? He really didn’t want to regret it. He could ask Slate what it was exactly that they would be doing, what he’d be comfortable with and what was simply out of the question. They could absolutely discuss this; it didn’t have to be a surprise. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

As soon as the door pushed open, he quickly closed all his apps, clearing the screen. It was mere reflex by now; he knew Josh wasn’t able to see his phone from the door. It just made him feel better. He opened up a different, unassuming app and scrolled as Josh crossed the room for his bed. His heavy footfalls made it so Toby didn’t have to look to know where he was going.

“Are you okay?” Josh’s tone was awkward and quiet, reaching into a part of him that he normally didn’t show, that cared with his whole, entire heart. He was genuinely worried. Toby glanced up now, just to make sure that Josh was turned around, unable to stare him in the face. He was right; Josh kept his back to him, hands pulling his shirt off overhead.

“Yeah, I’m fine; Stacy wanted to call, so I left. It ended up being a pretty long one.”

Josh nodded. “Alright, good.” Without another word, he got into bed, lying on his back with his phone over his face.

So that was the end of the conversation, okay. These heartfelt talks never lasted long, only a word or two that quickly reassured one another that everything was fine even when it absolutely wasn’t. Toby couldn’t remember a time when things between them had been bad for longer than thirty seconds, so it’d be fair to guess Josh didn’t have a lot of experience handling these types of situations. Toby, on the other hand, had spent his entire relationship with Stacy mitigating damage. The only reason he was less than thrilled to bring up Christian was because one, he didn’t want to fight Josh right now, and two, it’d go away soon enough. Josh would calm down about Christian, and in turn, Toby would feel better. Everything would sort itself out in the end, he was sure.

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