In the competitive halls of college, Charlie is just another face in the crowd-an introverted girl with a passion for academics and a heart too often overlooked. When Simon Whitlock , the charming yet notorious leader of campus life, unexpectedly as...
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My heart was pounding in my chest. My ears rang with the ambient noise of the football game-cheers, whistles, the rhythmic thud of feet against the bleachers-yet all I could hear was the sharp intake of breath in shock from Simon when the icy slushie splattered across his chest, staining his once-pristine white Radiohead shirt. My friends, Jenna and Mia, were cackling beside me, but I felt detached, like I was watching a scene from a movie instead of living it.
What had fucking come over me? Sure, Simon had been infuriating, with his smug, (un)innocent smile and unreasonable self-confidence, but was throwing a slushie really the necessary response? I thought of the old Charlie, the one who would've just smiled awkwardly, squished her feelings down and walked away. Now, the preppy version of me, with her bouncy hair and fitted shorts, felt like a stranger in my own skin.
Man, I really wanted that slushie too.
"That was so funny!" Jenna squealed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can't believe he thought he could talk to you..." she rambled on. I managed a tight smile, trying to shove my guilt aside. But the memory of Simon's bewildered face loomed large in my mind-the flicker of surprise, the way his lips parted in disbelief. It felt like a cocktail of emotions was muddling up inside of me, and I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. One moment, I wanted to celebrate my newfound confidence; the next, I longed for the quiet comfort of my own bed.
As we made our way toward the concession stand, I could still see Simon from the corner of my eye, a group of his friends surrounding him, laughing. They were throwing quick glances my way, and I could feel the heat of their scrutiny prickling my skin. It was as if the world had suddenly flipped upside down, with me being the center of attention for all the wrong reasons. I was the "it-girl" who had thrown a slushie at the ex-boyfriend. What would they say about me? "Just pretend like you're above it," I whispered under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment to shut out the frantic thoughts racing through my head.
"Charlie, you okay?" Mia asked, nudging me. "You've gone all quiet on us." "Yeah," I replied mechanically, though a part of me felt unsteady, a tightrope walker on the edge of a fall. Everything was more intense now; the cheers from the field felt sharper, the lights overhead glared brighter. The thrill of the moment was pulsing in my veins, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of exhilaration mingled with dread.
What if he tells people? I thought, biting down on my nail, the familiar stress habit creeping back. What if all the old rumors resurface?
Somehow, it felt unbearable. All I'd ever wanted was to blend in, to not stand out, and now I'd orchestrated my own spectacle-an embarrassing, messy little drama. I flipped my hair-a nervous gesture I had picked up recently-and took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm good," I finally said, forcing a more convincing smile. "Just... reminiscing."
