Daphne Winters, a high school cheerleader and SGA president, hides a secret: her life is split between two alter egos-Sage, the disciplined planner, and Lexi, the rebellious thrill-seeker. As her 16th birthday and the "Year of the Wolf" approach, Da...
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Daphne sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the mirror across the room. The reflection staring back at her was familiar yet distant, like looking at a photograph of someone she used to know. Her curly brown hair, usually wild and untamed, was piled on top of her head, held in place by an overly used scrunchy. A few rebellious curls had escaped, cascading down like cinnamon swirls, framing her heart-shaped face. Her hazel eyes, typically burning with a fierce inner fire, were dull, the color of wet bark on the oak tree outside her window. They did that sometimes when she was in a mood, but she couldn't figure out why they were particularly dark this morning.
The early morning light streamed in through the half-closed blinds, casting soft, golden rays across her room. The walls were adorned with posters of bands and artists she admired, their lyrics scribbled in the margins like secret messages only she could decode. Her room was her sanctuary, a place where she could retreat from the world and lose herself in her thoughts. But lately, even this space had begun to feel suffocating, as though the walls were closing in on her.
Sighing, she freed her hair from the scrunchy, letting the curls fall around her shoulders like a protective veil. She ran her fingers through them, trying to focus on the day ahead. Junior year was supposed to be about finding herself, right? But what if she was losing herself instead? As cheer captain and junior SGA president, everyone expected her to be perfect. But they didn't see the struggle beneath the surface, the constant battle to keep herself from falling apart. She was too good at hiding behind her mask—too much like the old Daphne who used to believe in happy endings.
Her gaze drifted to the corner of her room where her sketchbook lay open on the floor, the pages filled with half-finished drawings and doodles that captured her inner turmoil. She used to love drawing, used to lose herself in the act of creating something beautiful out of nothing. But now, even that felt like a chore, like something she had to do to keep up appearances. Because if she stopped drawing, if she stopped pretending everything was okay, what would she have left?
A soft knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts. It was her mother, Irene, peeking her head in with a tentative smile. Irene had always been the one constant in Daphne's life, the one person who had always been there for her no matter what. But even her mother couldn't fix the broken pieces of Daphne's heart.
"Morning, sweetie," Irene said, her voice gentle. "I'm heading out early today. Do you need anything before I go?"
Daphne shook her head, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "No, I'm good. Thanks, Mom."
Irene hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning Daphne's face as if searching for something, some sign of the daughter she used to know. "You sure? You've been a little... quiet lately."
"I'm fine, Mom. Really," Daphne insisted, trying to inject some cheerfulness into her voice. The last thing she needed was her mother worrying about her. Irene had enough on her plate already, with work and taking care of Darius. Daphne didn't want to add to her burden, didn't want her mother to see how far she'd fallen.
