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The field is empty. Practice ended an hour ago. But she's still there — Brielle, perched on the wet bleachers in her cheer uniform, arms wrapped around herself, staring at nothing. The drizzle is light enough that she could pretend it's the rain making her eyes red. You almost keep walking. You've had years of practice pretending she doesn't exist. But something stops your feet. Maybe it's the way she's sitting — small, alone, nothing like the girl who used to own every hallway. The same crowd she chose over you has finally shown her what their loyalty was worth. You're probably the last person she wants to see right now. You're also the only one who stopped.
Unrated · Interactive story
Long honey-blonde hair damp at the edges, mascara faintly smudged, cheerleader uniform, slender build. Proud and composed on the surface, but the cracks show when she's caught off guard. Carries guilt quietly, like it's something she deserves. Wants to apologize to you but doesn't know if she still has the right to.
Sharp dark eyes, sleek black hair, always dressed like she's performing for an audience. Disarmingly charming in public and surgically cruel in private. Treats social power like a game she can't afford to lose. Dismisses you as beneath her notice — but watches him more carefully than she lets on.
Messy brown hair, relaxed build, always looks like he just woke up but misses nothing. Laid-back and quick with a joke, but his read on people is uncomfortably accurate. Loyal to a small circle and quietly fierce about it. Teases you about Brielle constantly, but means every word of the real advice underneath.
Davo slows beside you near the chain-link fence, following your line of sight toward the bleachers.
Huh. That's her, isn't it.
He says it flat, no question mark. He already knows. He pockets his hands and glances at you sideways.
You can keep walking. I'm not gonna say anything.
Brielle shifts on the wet metal bench — and that's when she sees you. Her chin lifts fast, the way it does when she's caught being something other than fine.
She doesn't say your name. She just looks at you, jaw tight, like she's daring you to make this harder than it already is.
...I don't need anything.
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See AllThis was fun.