"You sound like an elderly British woman in her hundreds."

Clutching my thermoflask, I scoff and roll my eyes as I discard things that my mum would consider rubbish into my locker. "I'll take that."

"Come on, Ava, you have to reactivate your Instagram, you're missing out." Evie slams the locker aggressively, and my body instinctively cringes as I whirl around to find a serious expression on her face.

"Stop that! You're scaring me. Besides, how many times do I have to tell you that our relationship has become complicated? We decided breaking up is the best thing for both of us," I whine.

"And I told you I won't buy that craziness, girl. How can a person break up with a programmed application?" Confused, she shakes her head while I continue searching for my first edition of Charlotte Bronte's book, beginning to panic at the possibility of losing it.

"Aren't you American? You tell me. This is the twenty-first century; I've seen Hollywood scientific movies," I sneer.

Evie shuts my locker with her elbow and grabs me by both shoulders until I mirror her. "Okay! I've heard enough... WAKE UP."

On Saturday, when we got home from the golf centre, I found Evie in my bedroom, which still scares me to this day, and she still won't tell me how she got there. It's not like Christian and Mum share a key to our house with everyone.

Well, that evening, Evie not only taunted me about my social life but also throughout the whole night, as Mr and Mrs Kyle allowed her to have a sleepover at my place, which meant Leigh and I didn't get to finish our conversation. On Sunday morning, Christian decided to take his son for some father-son bonding time, and they likely returned very late last night since I dozed off.

Honestly, I can't understand what I've become and how much of an evil person I've turned into. How could I agree to take away the happiness my mum found after years of being destroyed? I cringe at the mere thought. I've never been one to make remorseless and selfish decisions, but ever since coming to the States, much about me has changed—or rather, my true self has begun to reveal itself—and I'd be lying if I blamed someone else's influence.

I clear my throat and start. "Evie..."

"Red alert... He's coming," she croaks, and I automatically start to blush.

"Who?" I shake my head at the red-faced girl who was just active two seconds ago, bewildered.

Her breathing quickens, and her eyes begin twitching. "What is happening to you?" I scrunch my face at her sudden change in composure before I turn around to find Arlen Garret approaching.

Please, let the bell ring now. Come on, for once in my life, let something work in my favor.

Of course, the bell doesn't go off, thanks to the malfunctioning clock, and I'm left with no option but to wear a neutral mask with a polite smile and suppress the nerves that sting every fiber of my being.

"Hi."

"Hi, Arlen." I maintain my composure.

"How are you?" But he sounds strange.

"I'm good, thank you. Why weren't you at the golf game on Saturday?" Why did I ask? How many times do I have to mentally slap myself?

Frowning, Arlen exhales and glances nervously at frozen Evie. "Can I talk to you in private?" he asks, suggestively.

"Oh... Mmm... I'll go to my locker. If you need me, I'll be by my locker. You know where that is... it's over there." Evie winks and points to her aesthetically pleasing locker across the hallway, taking slow steps backward. I want to kick her in the buttocks for embarrassing me more than necessary.

Arlen and I watch her add tension to the already tense atmosphere until she's standing at a safe distance for whatever conversation we're about to have.

I feel his eyes on me again. "Ava, I... I don't know, but I think we've known each other enough to take a step forward." Here comes the discussion I've been dreading.

I find myself swallowing ten times before mumbling, "Huh?"

Yes, call me a coward, but I have nothing to defend myself.

"I like you, Ava. I really like you, and I feel like sometimes you're pushing me away. I want you to feel comfortable and let me give you the best experience you'll never regret," he says, and my heart breaks a hundred times.

It feels like I'm choking on my breath. Why do I feel confined, like the walls are closing in on me? Did I fool myself, or were the hallways not big enough?

"Ava, would you be my girlfriend?" And there it is—the ponderous question I've been fearing for months. He simply throws it at me with his charming smile spread across his face.

"Ava?" He calls, this time with a crease forming on his forehead. Yes! That's because I've turned to stone, lacking expression and movement, although I am breathing, since the amount of blood my heart tends to provide is getting out of control, making my respiration labored.

"Ava, can I talk to you?" And here comes another reason for me to just pass out and escape my reality.

Leigh!

"We're talking here." With a flash of anger and impatience, Arlen Garret boldly throws at his friend. My eyes swiftly flicker between the two boys in identical cheetah jackets.

"Fuck if I care." Leigh's contempt is strong in his tone. "Ava, come with me." He ostentatiously asserts his authority and claims his territory by grabbing my forearm and pulling me with him. My eyes dart to the swinging locker, and I know I have to go back and lock my door, or else I could lose more than just Charlotte Bronte's book.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Arlen growls, also grabbing me by my left forearm, and I struggle to hold onto my tea flask.

Neither of the two boys cares about the firmness of their grip on me, and it's starting to hurt. I avert my eyes between their intense, murderous glares, and it sends chills through my whole body.

What the hell is happening?

Of course, the boys are pulling on me like some tug of war game, and as a tiny human between the two brawny athletes, I could literally be torn in two. Attention has been attracted, and the kids form a ring around us, gasping and murmuring while flashes from their phones light up the scene.

Arlen's free hand clasps around my waist, attempting to dominate the situation. Well, this is how it goes...

"Don't. fucking. touch. her," Leigh vehemently instructs with a severe push against Arlen's chest, catching him off guard. Arlen stumbles and withdraws until his back collides with the wall, causing my flask to slip out of my grasp and fall, spilling tea all over the floor.

No! Please tell me it's a nightmare, and I'm about to wake up to a normal hallway where everyone is minding their own business.

The venom on Arlen's face confirms my reality. His fists are clenched tighter, and before I can blink, he charges at Leigh with full force, colliding his head and shoulder with Leigh's stomach. Backward they go until they hit the other side of the lockers. In short, many doors will need repair, and Leigh might need a doctor, or so I thought.

I can't breathe, I can't move... I can't function, though I hear Evie mumbling something beside me. I look around for help, but there is nothing close to that. Lilith looks pale and terrified, just like I do. Behind her are her group of friends, who appear mildly frightened, except for Embry, who seems to be joining the group of people recording the scene. However, if you study her body language carefully, you can sense the fear written all over her features.

But what is she afraid of? That's not what I should be worrying about. I have two best friends, teammates, trying to harm each other because of me. And yet, no one is attempting to interfere and help. What kind of people are they? Why isn't anyone stepping in? Not even the cheetahs' teammates are trying to stop the violent fury as Leigh maintains the upper position while Arlen lies beneath him, receiving blows repeatedly. How is it humane to only record videos instead of separating the two and preventing the fight from escalating further?

The group starts to make way for someone, and I pray for anyone helpful. And thankfully, Tyron Bertram shows up and tugs at Leigh, who is seething and has busted knuckles.

I've never felt so sick; I want to puke when I glance over at Arlen. He's terribly hurt, curled up on the wet floor, groaning.

"What the fuck, bro?" Tyron exclaims, pulling on his hair. "What did you do? What the fuck?" He panics.

Yes, I would do the same if I weren't too shocked myself.

Leigh clenches his jaw, and his eyes are the darkest I've ever witnessed, leaving no trace of the soulful green eyes that brighten up the world when everything gets tougher. "I've warned him for so long. He should know his place," Leigh irefully sputters with an edge in his voice.

My heart feels like it's coming out of my chest. How could... I thought, I just thought... Lilith promised her brother wasn't violent. This is something different, far different from who Leigh is, or who I thought he was.

"Leigh, do you realize what you just did?" Tyron exhales an exasperated laugh and grabs his enraged friend by the arms, trying to bring him back to the reality of how he attacked someone on school premises, almost killing them in front of hundreds of witnesses.

"Take your hands off of me." Leigh yanks Tyron's hold off him with a sharp warning tone. His breathing is hard and fast as he glares at a struggling Arlen, attempting to sit up.

"What just happened here?" I finally snap out of my unresponsive state, thanks to Ms Polen's voice.

The halls go quiet as everyone refuses to explain and starts shoving their phones into their pockets.

"Mr Boyce, can you explain why you have those knuckles and why you're looking towards your teammate?" she asks Leigh.

My head is pounding, and my heart is racing against my chest. This could cost Leigh his spot in the football team, and he definitely needs that for his future. Maybe I should speak up and take the blame if possible.

"It..." I begin in a murmur.

"He tripped and fell," Tyron was quicker to respond, although not quick enough for some anonymous kid to blurt out, "Arlen Garret started it."

What?

"What?" Ms Polen frowns. "I want honesty here. What exactly happened?" She firmly asks.

Okay, let's be honest. I'm sure everyone saw Leigh starting the fight, but why frame Arlen?

Ms Polen looks more than lost. Of course, only a fool would believe Arlen tripped and fell when the evidence is all around. With Arlen's face looking terribly damaged and Leigh still clenching his fists, his eyes flaring and fixated on his teammate, who I once believed was his best friend, there is nothing left for Ms Polen to do but agree with whoever spoke in the audience.

"Mr. Garret, would you start explaining?" Ms Polen presses.

Arlen spits out blood and averts his angered gaze back at Leigh before swallowing. "I fell, the floor was wet," his voice is deep and surprisingly strong for someone in his state.

Ms Polen looks confused. "Are you sure? Did anyone around here witness anything?" Her eyes wander around the crowd.

Just like in a democracy, only in this situation, everyone is siding with one person, and that person is none other than the illustrious Leigh Boyce. To my shock, I witness how every child in this circle either goes along with the cover-up, agreeing that Arlen Garret tripped on the wet floor after starting a fight with innocent Leigh Boyce, or simply shrugs, claiming they saw nothing.

Damn... The Boyce name holds power, and Leigh has an influence over every child here. He is magnificently loved by everyone.

Finally, the bell rings, signaling the end of the show.

"Alright, everyone should get to class. Mr. Garret, come with me to the nurse, and then you will explain to the principal the reason for your violent behavior in school," Ms Polen orders.

Wow.

What just happened?

With my flask in her hand, Evie tugs my arm and pulls my weak body with her. I can barely breathe, and each step I take feels so unreal. When I turn around and give a quick glance, I catch Leigh's intense eyes on me. Beside his lips is a small amount of blood; Arlen must have left a mark on him too.

I expect to receive dirty looks and harsh comments, but honestly, nothing comes, not even Lisa Austen comes up with her attacks. Maths and literature pass by without my awareness, and even the rest of the periods feel like a delusion happening in front of me. I don't understand who I really am and what I am becoming.

***

"How was your day?" He asks while gently biting my thumb.

The warmth of his mouth on my skin sparks something inside me. I smile faintly before setting my tea in the cup holder of his Chiron. "Eventful," I mutter.

"Ava, I'm sorry about what happened. I just couldn't..."

I interrupt his repeated apology with the disturbing question I had shelved in my brain since morning. "What did you mean when you told Tyron that you've warned Arlen for so long?"

A frown breaks through, and the smile that was on his face a second ago is replaced with a scowl.

"Leigh, please... I'm scared. This is getting too much, everything is getting too much..."

He cuts me off unexpectedly by grabbing my waist and pulling me towards him until I'm straddling his lap.

It's after school, and Leigh has picked up our takeaways from KFC, which we eat in his car in a beautiful neighborhood.

"It's going to be okay, I promise. You don't have to be scared. I'm here, alright?" He tells me, and I take in a soft breath. The look in his eyes is reassuring, and his voice seems to soothe my nerves.

"Leigh, you can't go fighting like that. First, you need to maintain your reputation to get into Princeton. And if you want to go pro, you'll have to keep a clean record. You should know that better than me. Second, Arlen is your friend. You shouldn't engage in combat. Please, this is not you," I shake my head pleadingly.

"It doesn't matter, only you do," he states matter-of-factly, and my heart begins to beat faster. I'm really scared. When I thought I had changed, I failed to see what Leigh has become. He used to be nothing like this; he was peaceful, gentle, quiet, and simple. But right now, he looks desperate and protective, willing to do anything to defend us.

"Leigh..."

"I love you, Ava. I love you, and I would do anything to prevent anything from becoming a threat between us." He rushed his words and tenderly yet hastily kissed my lips. "I know how it felt not having you close, and I don't want to go back to that. I've moved past it. You're everything to me, and I can't afford to lose you." He softly kissed my lips again and pulled away. "I've already set things up. Soon, everything will be alright... we will be alright." He smiled deeply and kissed my irresponsive lips.

Oh, Ava. You've really made a huge mess.

Is it worth destroying what Mum and Christian have worked so hard to build?

***

By the time I get home, I spend over an hour finding comfort in a filled bathtub. If warm water really relaxes the muscles, I should feel rejuvenated by now. But I still feel like the traitor that I truly am as I put on a hooded sweater and cotton shorts before heading downstairs for dinner.

"My mum will be here in four days. I can't wait," Sawyer announced.

"But the wedding isn't until the 27th," Lilith groaned.

"Lilith?" Christian shot his daughter a warning glare while Mum served a healthy chicken casserole onto everyone's plates.

"I think it's better if she comes soon because the airport is getting crowded with holiday travelers. Waiting until the last minute isn't a good idea," Sawyer continued.

"Yes, that's very smart. I can't even begin to imagine Catherine missing her flight. Your aunt here might move the wedding to another date," Christian agreed, playfully winking at Sawyer while he kissed my mum's hand. "Thanks for dinner, love. I can't wait for the endless British dinners we'll have when we get married." Mum instantly blushed.

Why do I feel like a murderer? I feel heartbroken and shattered inside. How is it possible that I must be heartless for what I am willing to do? Let's be fair; Mum and Christian found each other before us, yet we are terrified of letting them be together since the chances of us being together after the wedding are too low.

Is this really what I wanted, though? Is it right to choose my own happiness over my mother's, after all those years we've spent together? Just a broken mother and her child in a small house, trying to survive after everything that's happened.

With an itching pain spreading through my flesh, I look up at Leigh. He seems pale, as if he's run out of blood. His eyes are fixed on his mobile phone. Yes, he managed to come up with some fake answers when his father asked about his bruised lips.

Ping*

I look down at my phone, and the sender is Evie. I decide to respond to her after dinner since I know the persistent subject she's still not over with.

Ping*

Ping*

Ping*

Of course, she won't stop until I respond, so I tap on the thread.

Evie: Have you seen Instagram?

Evie: I'm not kidding. This is really important. You have to go online and defend yourself.

What does that mean?

Ping*

My heart thumps in my chest, and my fingers begin to freeze as I continue to read her incoming messages.

Evie: Where are you?

Evie: Ava, are you okay?

Evie: I'm so sorry about Embry.

Ping*

What? What is happening?

I look up at the three people peacefully eating dinner, while on the other hand, the two siblings frown at their mobile phones, and I know something's up.

Fidgety and with trembling fingers, I reactivate my Instagram.

And within a minute, I have numerous new notifications that had me turn my phone to silent.

I begin to hyperventilate as I gather myself and scroll through Embry's page. My finger reluctantly taps on her recent post.

No! No! This can't be real. No... she didn't.

I couldn't swallow as breathing becomes difficult.

It was a video of the earlier morning altercation in the hallway, featuring me being pulled by both boys. But that wasn't the reason why I felt a stab in my stomach. It was her caption.

"Leigh Boyce attacked his best friend because of his soon-to-be stepsister. He never did anything like this for his actual sister. It's quite a puzzle. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

I tap on the four thousand and counting comments under the viral video. Congratulations! I am hated.

My eyes widen at Arlen Garret's choice of words as his comment is highlighted among the top comments. It was the cruelest thing he's ever done that I've known of.

"Who knows? Maybe we're too blind to see the truth that is right in front of us."

The particular comment had attracted two thousand likes in half an hour. Although the replies were mostly against his words, it didn't help. That deceitful post created a lot of damage.

It's over! Everything is ruined.

I feel cold, tense, and have a throbbing headache that I don't know how it started. I feel fearful, and I feel absent in my own reality. The clinking sound of the cutlery and the laughter from the three people living in a carefree world begin to fade away. Everything is slowly distancing, and when my eyes meet the person mirroring me, I choose death over life.

Lilith's flaming, soul-slitting gaze penetrates through me. I can see the hate, the disgust, the anger, and the boiling eruption in her almost black eyes. Embry has yet again gotten into her head and planted the poisonous seed, which is nothing but the truth. And in this moment, God knows I am exhausted from living.