My first crush (COMPLETED)√

Chapter 2: Guilt

I still felt tense from the incident with Stephen. My shoulders remained stiff, my nerves wound too tight, as though the entire school could see straight through me. We were going to be the talk of the day. I was sure of it.

Be a good girl, I whispered to myself, the words trembling on my lips like a desperate prayer. It hadn't been easy lately. My thoughts betrayed me constantly, drifting back to Stephen in ways that made me uncomfortable with myself.

"Sharon! Sharon!"

The sound of my name sliced through my thoughts. I spun around, panic flooding me before I even saw her. It was Bella.

"Everyone knows," she said, loud enough for the courtyard to hear.

My heart stopped.

For a split second, the world tilted. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. I couldn't even think clearly. If everyone knew, then the principal might know too. And if the principal knew, going home wouldn't save me. My father would notice immediately. He was the kind of man who watched every step I took, every breath I made.

What am I going to do?

Mrs. Kate, the principal, glanced in my direction as I passed. Her face gave nothing away.

Thank God, I sighed inwardly. She doesn't know. If she did, I wouldn't have missed it. Her silence was my only mercy.

I hurried into the classroom, ignoring the curious stares that followed me. Whispers brushed past my ears like sharp needles, but I forced myself forward. I slid into the seat beside Bella and Helen, my chest tight.

"Really?" I whispered. "Does everyone know?"

My stomach twisted painfully.

"Just a few people," Helen replied without looking up, scribbling through her notes. Her serious expression made my fear grow worse.

"It didn't spread naturally," Bella added, biting into her chocolate. "Jeremy dropped it in the chat group."

My hands curled into fists.

"That idiot," I muttered. "As if my plate isn't already full." Jeremy thrived on gossip. it was his currency. And now I was the headline.

Before I could sink deeper into my anger, the classroom door opened.

Stephen walked in.

He was laughing with his friends, Stiles, Andrey, Nick, as if nothing in the world had changed. As if I hadn't changed. My heart betrayed me immediately, fluttering despite everything. I hated that part of myself.

Our eyes met for the briefest second.

Then he looked away.

Just like that.

As if I were invisible.

His friends smiled knowingly in my direction, and that hurt even more.

"Really?" I whispered to myself, my chest aching. Was yesterday nothing to him? Was I imagining everything? The confusion twisted into frustration, then into something dangerously close to regret.

I kept my eyes forward, pretending I didn't notice him. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure my friends could hear it. They watched me closely, as if trying to read my thoughts.

I wondered if Patricia knew.

The thought alone made me nauseous. She was my friend, still heartbroken, still holding on to hope that she and Stephen might find their way back to each other. And here I was, standing in the middle of a mess I never meant to create.

I'm ruining everything.

My thoughts drifted back to the excursion the week before. Patricia had cried the entire time, grieving the end of their relationship. I remembered thinking it was silly to cry over a boy but now, I wasn't so sure I understood love at all.

Did I ever?

A memory from that same trip crept in uninvited.

The bus ride home.

Josh, my classmate's younger brother had sat beside me. He was harmless, or so I thought. My phone had started ringing in my bag, the sound sharp and embarrassing in the quiet bus.

"Sharon, answer it," Patricia called out from behind me.

I fumbled, my hands shaking, only to realize it was a wrongly set alarm. The embarrassment burned through me as I tried to laugh it off.

Josh chuckled too, but his attention lingered longer than it should have.

I turned toward the window, desperate to escape the moment. The scenery blurred past, but I felt him shift closer. His head rested against my shoulder.

I froze.

My body stiffened, my heart racing as discomfort crawled up my spine. I didn't know how to move without making a scene. Eventually, exhaustion pulled me into a light sleep.

That was when I felt it.

Something wrong.

Something that made my skin crawl and my breath catch painfully in my throat, Josh's penis crawling over me.

I woke up instantly, terror locking me in place as understanding dawned. I didn't scream. I couldn't. The bus was dark, the moment hidden, the violation silent.

No one noticed.

No one knew.

We reached home as if nothing had happened, but I carried the weight of it with me, heavy, confusing, and deeply unsettling.

Some moments don't leave bruises.

They leave questions.

And I was beginning to realize that growing up wasn't about first love or first kisses. It was about learning how to survive the things no one prepares you for.