Blair O'Connor was the life of every party-popular, fearless, and always the center of attention. But behind the perfect image was an abusive boyfriend who slowly stripped away the girl she used to be.
After finally breaking free, Blair transfers...
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Walking into school today, I didn't expect to see Patrick leaning against the lockers, talking to Lizzie. It wasn't just any conversation either—her arms were crossed, her expression tight, but there was a flicker of something softer in the way she stood just close enough to him, like she was trying not to care but failing. Her usual scowl was still there, but less sharp, her tone lower than the usual biting sarcasm she saved for everyone else.
Patrick, of course, looked as unreadable as ever, his hands in his jacket pockets, his head tilted slightly as he listened. Whatever she was saying, he wasn't giving much away, just the occasional nod or murmur of acknowledgment.
Something twisted in my chest as I watched them from down the hall. A sharp, uncomfortable sensation I didn't want to name.
Was I... jealous?
No, that was ridiculous. This wasn't real—it was all an act. Patrick was doing this to get Lizzie's attention, to finally break through her icy exterior, and I was going along with it to get Connor to back off. It was a deal, plain and simple.
So why did seeing them together make me feel like I'd swallowed a bag of nails?
I forced myself to keep walking, ignoring the uneasy sensation that refused to fade. The fake relationship was working—Connor had kept his distance, and clearly, Patrick's plan to get Lizzie to notice him was paying off. Things were falling into place.
So why did it feel like everything was just slightly wrong?
I was almost past them when Patrick's eyes lifted, meeting mine. His gaze locked on me instantly, his expression flickering for a split second before settling back into calm indifference.
"Blair," he said, his voice steady, pulling Lizzie's attention away from whatever she'd been saying.
She turned, her scowl sharpening at the sight of me, but only for a moment. Then it smoothed out into a surprisingly neutral expression. "Oh, hi, Blair," she said, her tone polite enough to be unnerving.
"Lizzie," I replied, my voice tight as I forced a smile. My gaze flicked between them, wondering what they'd been talking about, but Patrick gave nothing away.
Patrick shifted slightly, stepping closer to me. "You ready?" he asked quietly, his tone low but certain.
"Yeah," I said, feeling the tension radiate between us and Lizzie as I stepped into his space. His presence was steady, grounding in a way I didn't want to think too much about.
As we walked away, I could feel Lizzie's eyes boring into the back of my head. I resisted the urge to glance back, keeping my focus ahead as Patrick matched my pace, his hand brushing mine lightly—so lightly it felt accidental, but I wasn't sure anymore.
We made it to the next hallway before I broke the silence. "What was that about?" I asked, keeping my voice low as we walked toward class.
He shrugged, his face unreadable as always. "She asked if we were really together."
