The Keys to freedom

The wonder twins

In Martha's Vineyard, social status dictated one's worth, and the hierarchy ruled with an iron fist.

The middle class drifted in the shadows— too plain to notice, too unimportant to bother. They were the overlooked, forgotten faces lingering just outside the spotlight. Not a bad place to exist, really. Invisible. Quiet.

But at the bottom—the ones they called Gutterrats—weren't granted such mercy. To the rich kids, the Fatcats with daddy's money and custom-made shoes, they were just toys. Entertainment. Something to prod, poke, and play with when the privilege of boredom set in.

"Hey, Lozzipop," Jessper said greeting Oz at her locker.

That nickname had stuck since they were nine, when Jessper and her parents moved into the run-down trailer across the road. Oz remembered that day clearly—a loud little girl with blonde pigtails and a voice that never took a breath showed up on the Harris doorstep with a batch of lopsided cookies and a random pinwheel.

Oz's dad had opened the door, blinking down in confusion at the odd little girl grinning up at him. When she spotted Oz peaking around her dad's legs, she flashed a wide smile at her and asked if she liked frogs and wanted to see a dead one, after that the two were fused.

With an eye roll, Oz slamed her locker shut and leaned against it.

"Okay, who shat in your hat this morning?" Jessper asks, twirling her gum in her mouth with her tongue.

"The better question is who hasn't?" she sighs.

"Good point. You want to sneak into a rich kid's party tonight, swipe their liquor, and have a slumber party? Might put that storm cloud of yours on pause."

Oz smiles. "Maybe. Me and James have to rake in 200 dollars in tips tonight or else I might be having a permanent slumber party with you, and we both know that your parents hate me."

Jessper rolls her eyes, "My parents don't hate you, they just think you're a bad influence on me," she adds with a smile.

She snorts, "Yeah, well, I'm not lining up to braid their hair either," she sighs. "But I suppose I can't blame them. After all, what's that saying? Something about apples and trees, right?"

"Shut up, you're nothing like your parents," Jessper glares.

She gave a humorless laugh. "Yeah? According to the rumors, I'm worse."

Jessper crossed her arms. "Screw those rumors and the people who believe them. They just bored and jealous."  She smiled and locked arms with her. "Come on, let's get to class before we get another detention slip. There is only so much of Mr. Collins and his hairy chest that I can take," she adds with an exaggerated shiver.

Oz laughs as they navigate the checkered tiles, she looks down at the shadows of silhouettes dancing beneath their feet, drifting into her own thoughts. She once overheard Jessper's parents comparing her to the Hemlock plant that grew wild behind their house. Beautiful from a distance but poisonous to the touch, she didn't understand what they meant by it at the time, but now it read like a prophecy, because that's also how she would describe her mother: Beautiful and toxic.

"How do you plan on making 200 dollars in tips tonight?" Jessper asks as they slowly make their way down the hall.

Oz pulls her shirt down slightly revealing the tops of her breasts. "With the help of Shonda and Rhonda of course,"

Jessper laughs "Ah yes, the wonder twins. So, which is which?"

"Shonda is the smaller one," she replies with a grin—just as they round the corner and crash straight into someone.

Her smile vanished the second she looked up and saw him—that same infuriating smirk plastered across the face of her ex-boyfriend. Pyke Hastings. The heir to Lance Hastings, Martha's Vineyard's crown jewel of wealth and ego.

Oz scoffs, planting both hands against his chest to push him back. He doesn't budge. Just looks down at her with that signature smirk.

"Still can't keep your hands off me, huh?" he drawls. "Try showing some restraint, Oz."

She rolls her eyes, avoiding eye contact. "You really are full of yourself, aren't you?" She scoffs.

He puts his arm around her shoulder and leans in close to her. "I'd bet you'd like to be full of me too, huh?" he whispers in her ear.

She scoffs and pushes him from her, quickly grabbing Jessper by the hand and pulling her away down the hall.

"Stop kidding yourself Oz." He calls after her, "You know you want me," he finishes before turning around and laughing with his friends.

Her cheeks burned as she hurried down the hallway, heart pounding. As much as she tried to deny it, he was right. She did still want him. And most days, she hated herself for it.

Because she knew exactly who Pyke Hastings was. He was the arrogant golden boy, the one who wore his cruelty like a designer jacket. A walking warning label. He collected hearts like trophies, shattered them without blinking, and walked away with that smug little smile that made you feel stupid for hoping.

He didn't date—he conquered. He didn't love—he used.

But then, somehow, he looked at Oz with those same cold, calculating eyes and they... softened. Like the storm had paused for her and her alone. Around her, he became someone else—someone gentler, quieter, he had become kind. It was like she'd stumbled onto some hidden switch in him no one had ever found.

Unintentionally, she had tamed the callous beast and despite hating everything he was and stood for, she found it surprisingly easy to love someone who made it so hard.

But then, one day, she ended it.

No warning. No reason. She just left, leaving him to still wonder why.

"Ugh!" She groans still pulling Jessper behind her. "How could I have ever dated that, that...worm!"

Her voice was sharp, trying to slice through the ache in her chest with anger. She wanted to believe it—that she'd ended things because he was a jerk. That he deserved it. But the truth clung to her ribs like something rotten. He didn't deserve it. He hadn't been a jerk. Not to her at least. Not back then.

"Because that worm is hotter than my ass after eating Mexican burritos" Jessper replied.

Oz grimaced. "Thanks for the imagery."

While she might not express it quite like Jessper did, She had a valid point, with his broody stare and muscular frame, Pyke Hastings was eye-candy to every female in school, there wasn't a single one of them that wouldn't jump at the chance to be with him even if it was just for a moment of his attention, but despite nearly a year of trying to convince himself he hated her, Pyke couldn't help but fixate on the short, stubborn, freckled girl who had shattered his heart.