Victim

It's better to be safe than sorry, right?

Malia's POV

I walk out of the grocery store and spot Kylie, deep in thought as she heads down the sidewalk, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. Judging by her leggings and plain white t-shirt, she's probably on her way to the gym. Somehow, she manages to make even the simplest outfit look beautiful. I try not to stare, as nice as she looks, I really don't want to talk to her. Today has been a mess of heated conversations—first Dior, and then with Momona and Xóchitl. The last thing I need right now is another uncomfortable conversation, especially with the girl who ghosted me last night. No, thank you.

To avoid her, I put on my headphones, hoping she'll take the hint if she notices me at all. But just as I'm about to relax, I hear her call, "Malia!" I quicken my pace, praying she'll let me go, but she quickly matches my stride.

"It's Malia, right?" she says, stepping up beside me. I nod, avoiding her eyes. "We never really met properly last night. I'm Kylie," she says, extending her hand to shake. My palms instantly feel clammy, so I manage a small smile instead, looking down at the ground.

Kylie sighs, shifting slightly. "I-um... I just wanted to say sorry for ghosting you last night. And I'm not just saying this because Dior came by earlier—"

Oh my gosh. Dior went to her about this? I feel my cheeks heat up. Now Kylie must think I'm some weak freshman who can't handle things on my own. "Wait, what? Dior did what?" I ask, trying to keep the mortification out of my voice.

Confusion flickers across her face. "She came by earlier... She didn't tell you?"

"No," I reply.

Kylie hesitates, clearly regretting bringing it up. "Oh. Well, she came to my apartment, and she pointed out that, yeah, I sort of ghosted you. I know, with my reputation,'' What does that mean? ''it probably looks like I did it on purpose, but I honestly didn't mean to. Ruby, you know, my very drunk friend in the police outfit? We were supposed to find her boyfriend together," she explains, scratching the back of her head.

I nod in reply, and Kylie continues, "Well, we eventually found him in the bathroom, sitting in his own puke."

"Oh my gosh," I gasp, grimacing.

"Yeah, I know..." She laughs awkwardly, glancing away. "So, we had to rush home, and in all the chaos, I totally forgot I'd said I'd be back. That's the reason I left, not that it makes it right. But... yeah, I'm really sorry, Malia." She looks a bit nervous now, as though genuinely worried about what I might think of her. It's such a contrast to the confident, carefree Kylie from last night.

"It's okay, it's really not that big of a deal," I reply, letting out a nervous laugh.

She shakes her head. "I think it is. You told me you weren't much of a party girl, then you go out and end up getting ghosted. That's pretty messed up, so I really am sorry. Actually," she says, a hopeful smile breaking through, "let me buy you a matcha tomorrow to make it up to you?" Her eyes go soft, practically begging.

I hesitate, a part of me still guarded. She ghosted me once already, and I don't want to become "one of her victims"—whatever Dior meant by that.

"Or coffee?" she offers, her smile widening. "Tea? I know you're not into parties, but hey, I could even buy you a cocktail? Whatever you want." Her laughter is contagious, and I can't help but laugh too.

"A coffee would be nice," I agree.

"Perfect! It's a date," she says, winking and brushing her fingers lightly against my arm. A spark of warmth floods through me, and I have to look away, suddenly too flustered to meet her gaze.

I clear my throat, clutching my bag. "Well, um, I'd better get going. This bag's kind of heavy..."

"I'll carry it for you," she offers immediately.