Chapter 2

I pulled my arm free from Caleb's grip.

"It's none of your business, Caleb."

His eyes narrowed, "After all these years, you think you can just spring a mystery boyfriend on us?"

He sounded almost offended.

Leo appeared beside him, looking curious, a little hurt.

"Yeah, Ava, who is this guy? We've never even heard you mention anyone."

His tone was softer than Caleb's, but the underlying possessiveness was there.

"Maybe because I don't tell you everything," I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

The truth was, I had always tried so hard to fit into their world, to be the cool girl, the one who wasn't like other girls.

My family, the Thompsons, were old money, but "old" was starting to mean "fading."

The Ashworths, the Albrights, the Cartwrights – their families were dynasties, powerful and unshakeable.

I' d spent years earning my place in their tight circle, the only girl in their pack.

I' d laughed at their jokes, tolerated their casual cruelties, pretended their approval wasn't the air I breathed.

Julian walked over slowly, his expression unreadable.

He didn't ask about the boyfriend.

He just looked at me, a long, searching gaze.

"Are you okay, Ava?"

His voice was low, and for a moment, it felt genuine.

It was a painful echo.

Julian had been there for me last year.

Last year had been hell.

It started after the spring formal, a party I barely remembered.

Then the photos appeared online, manipulated, vile.

Rumors spread like wildfire through the school, through our small, insular community.

I was a slut, a drunk, a mess.

My "friends" vanished, the ones who weren't Caleb, Leo, or Julian.

The cyberbullying was relentless, anonymous messages filled with hate.

I' d stopped going to school for a week, hiding in my room, drowning in shame.

It was Julian who had shown up at my door.

Julian who had sat with me, not saying much, just being there.

Julian who had helped me navigate the social fallout, who had quietly used his influence to make some of the worst of it stop.

He' d seemed like a savior then.

Now, standing in the Ashworths' driveway, his earlier words, "too impulsive, unfocused," echoed in my mind, clashing with the memory of his kindness.

Leo, still looking boyishly wounded, said, "You always told us we were your best friends, Ava. It just feels weird you'd hide something this big."

"Maybe I got tired of being 'one of the guys' or your 'cool older sister'," I snapped, the bitterness I'd swallowed for years finally surfacing.

"Maybe I wanted someone who saw me as more."

The words hung there, an accusation.

Caleb scoffed, "Oh, come on, Ava. Don't be dramatic."

The casual dismissal, again.

I felt a familiar ache, the sting of being perpetually misunderstood, perpetually relegated to a role I hadn't chosen but had desperately clung to.

I looked at Julian, searching for that flicker of understanding, of the kindness he'd shown me before.

He just watched me, his expression thoughtful, almost calculating.

A cold knot formed in my stomach.

The memory of the cyberbullying was still so raw, a wound that hadn't fully healed.

The feeling of being exposed, violated, hunted.

The attackers were anonymous, but I knew some of my fair-weather friends had gleefully participated, spreading the doctored images.

Julian had been my rock. Or so I thought.