Gemma Draconica

Chapter 14

I gather my tray and follow Natalie, Caroline, and Bianca, my thoughts still tangled in Caroline's words about the King.

Natalie nudges me. "You okay?"

I nod, though my stomach churns. "Yeah. Just thinking about the next class."

"Gym," Caroline says, wrinkling her nose. "I forgot it's fifth period now. What genius thought that was a good idea?"

"It's better than math after lunch," Bianca replies, her tone dry. "At least you can burn off the french fries."

As we near the gym doors, the smell of polished wood floors and sour sweat hits me. The chatter of students echoes off the high ceilings, but my focus sharpens when I spot Monica at the far end of the hallway.

She's leaning against a row of lockers, arms crossed and her jaw set. Her black duffle bag rests on the floor by her feet, a clear signal that she's waiting—for me.

Caroline slows her pace, her gaze darting between us. "Shit."

"Oh hell," whispers Bianca.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, squaring my shoulders.

Natalie glances at me, her eyes filled with concern, but I shake my head. "I'll handle it."

We step into the locker room, the chatter of other girls washing over us like white noise. Monica follows a beat behind. She drops her bag onto the bench across from mine with a deliberate thud, her movements precise and sharp.

I glance at Natalie and Caroline, urging them to go ahead. They hesitate for a moment before slipping away to change. I steel myself, pretending to focus on tying my shoes, but my pulse quickens when Monica speaks.

"You're unbelievable." Her voice is low, but there's a simmering edge like a volcano threatening to erupt.

I don't look up, keeping my tone calm. "If this is about lunch—"

"This isn't about lunch," she snaps, cutting me off. "This is about you, acting like you can just waltz back into our lives and—"

She pauses, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

"And what?" I ask, my patience fraying. "What am I guilty of Monica? Tell me because I'm tired of guessing."

Her eyes flash with something raw and unguarded for a split second before the familiar anger takes over again. "You don't get it, do you? You left. You cut us off. And now you're back, expecting everything to go back to normal. You can't just go back to normal, Vivi. Not anymore."

The words hit harder than I expected, and for a moment, I'm speechless. The room feels too small, too loud, even though the other girls are talking and laughing as if nothing is happening.

"I didn't mean to leave things the way I did," I say, my voice softer now. "But I had my reasons."

"Your reasons," she echoes, her tone bitter. "Always your reasons. But what about us? What about—"

She cuts herself off again, her shoulders tensing as though she's holding back something she can't—or won't, say.

I stare at her, my chest tightening. "What about what Mon?"

For a moment, it seems like she might. Her lips part, and her expression falters, but then she shakes her head, grabbing her bag and storming toward the door.

"Forget it," she mutters. "It's not worth it."

The door slams behind her, leaving me with my heart pounding and my mind racing. What just happened? And why do I feel like there's so much more beneath her anger than she's letting on?