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❝When you can't find your path, life carves one out for you.❞
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In the coastal haven of Byron Bay, Claire Garcia and Ethan King find their lives intersecting in unexpected ways.
Claire, vibrant and resolute, is a devoted reader wit...
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Claire sat at the lunch table, laughing and chatting with her friends, feeling like the first day of her senior year was off to a solid start. The earlier nerves had mostly dissipated, and the camaraderie of the group made her feel like she could handle whatever high school had to throw at her. She was still buzzing from her subtle exchanges with Ethan during English Literature class, the kind of small moments that left her heart fluttering. But then, she spoke too soon.
Suddenly, a group of girls descended upon their table, like a flock of perfectly manicured Barbie dolls. There were about six of them, each one dressed to the nines in designer outfits and makeup that looked like it took hours to perfect. Their presence was overwhelming, and Claire could feel the mood around the table shift. A couple of them began shamelessly flirting with the guys, their high-pitched voices and false giggles grating on Claire's nerves.
None of the guys seemed to encourage it—except for Oliver, of course. He was smirking like the cat who got the cream, clearly enjoying the attention. He leaned back in his chair, giving one of the girls a wink, which earned him a few giggles in return. Claire rolled her eyes at his predictability.
The leader of the pack, a tall blonde with icy blue eyes the same girl she saw in Calculus and a posture that screamed "queen bee," stepped forward. I know that sounds harsh but it fits the description pretty well. Claire felt her approaching before she even spoke, her air of superiority nearly tangible. She could practically hear the clicking of her heels even though they were sitting in a cafeteria.
"Hi, boys," the blonde said, her voice sugary sweet but with an edge of condescension. She scanned the table with her cold gaze before settling on Claire. "Oh, I don't think we've met. I'm Bethany." The way she said it, it was like Bethany expected Claire to bow or offer her some sort of acknowledgment.
"Claire," she said simply, trying to keep her tone polite. She wasn't in the mood for drama, but she could already sense it brewing.
Bethany gave her a once-over, her perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. "Hmm, Claire, right." Her voice dripped with passive-aggressive sweetness. "So, are you, like, new here? I don't remember seeing you around before."
"Yeah, I just transferred," Claire replied, keeping her expression neutral.
"Ah, that explains it." Bethany smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Just so you know, it can be hard to find your place here. Some people fit in, and others... well, they don't." Her tone was polite, but the meaning was clear. She was staking her claim—both over the boys and over the school.
Claire was about to respond, when Sarah, who had been silently watching the exchange, decided to step in. Her tone was calm, but sharp as a blade. "Bethany, wasn't it? It's funny, I've never had trouble fitting in, and neither will Claire." Sarah smiled sweetly, but there was no mistaking the subtle threat in her words. Claire remembered that Sarah was also quite new compared to the rest.
