HAYDEN EXPECTED THE FRANTIC KNOCKS THAT SOUNDED AT HER DOOR LATER THAT NIGHT.

Which is why she took her time stalking to the door, a hand in her hair as she sighed and swung the door open with a stoic expression. "You don't quit, do you?"

Miguel winced but didn't look away. "I know how it looks, okay? But—"

"Good, you know how it looks." Hayden said, tone dismissive. Miguel sent her a look of confusion, tilting his head slightly. "Now, let me tell you how it feels. To have the entire town watch you be upstaged and embarrassed."

"Hayden, I'm sorry—"

"Yeah, okay." Hayden's tone was flat, but something about the way she turned her gaze back to the distance made him feel like he'd said the wrong thing.

He let out a frustrated breath. "It's just— everyone saw the commercial Miyagi Do put out, dissing Cobra Kai, and Sensei felt the need to respond."

Hayden didn't answer right away. She just watched the pavement, her jaw tight. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and steady. "And what, you thought crashing our demo was the best way to fix that? To embarrass us?"

Miguel shook his head, stepping closer. "It wasn't about you. It was never about you." He paused, watching her carefully. "I just... I didn't think it through. I was stupid. I'm sorry."

Hayden glanced up at him then, her gaze unreadable, though the faintest flicker of something softer broke through the quiet storm in her eyes.

"You're always sorry," she muttered.

Miguel's lips quirked into the smallest smile. "Only when it comes to you."

She blinked, her expression faltering for a moment, like he'd caught her off guard. Hayden quickly looked away, shaking her head as a quiet breath escaped her lips. "That's cheesy."

Miguel ran a hand through his hair. "You didn't deserve to get caught in the middle. That's on me."

Silence. Hayden didn't move. For a second, Miguel thought she was going to get up and leave, but then she spoke, her voice quieter.

"You guys looked stupid, anyway."

Miguel blinked. "What?"

"The chanting. The synchronized jogging." A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Real intimidating."

Miguel stared at her, stunned, before a laugh escaped him— short and surprised. "Okay, first of all, that was Hawk's idea."

"Of course it was." Hayden shook her head faintly, still staring ahead, but the sharp edge to her demeanor had dulled.

Miguel watched her for a moment, his grin softening. "So... does this mean you're done hating me?"

Hayden finally looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "I don't hate you, Miguel."

"You sure? You've got that 'quiet fury' thing down to an art."

She let out a small, incredulous laugh through her nose, shaking her head. "You're an idiot."

"Maybe." Miguel shrugged, leaning back against the bench with a grin. "But I'm your idiot."

Hayden gave him a look— half exasperated, half amused. "Keep dreaming, Diaz."

He held up his hands in surrender, still grinning. "Trust me, I will."

They sat there for a moment, the tension finally melting into something familiar. The kind of silence that didn't feel heavy or strained. Just...easy.

Miguel nudged her shoulder lightly. "Can I make it up to you?"

"And what if I said 'yeah by leaving me alone forever'?" Hayden quirked a brow at him.

Miguel paused, tilting his head slightly, eyes flickering away like he was considering her offer before landing back on her. "Then yeah, I can't make it up to you."

Hayden snorted,  shaking her head. Finally, she exhaled quietly, one corner of her mouth twitching upward. "Fine. You wanna make it up to me?"

"Yeah." Miguel nodded eagerly, like he was ready to do whatever it took.

"Good." Hayden stepped past him, already walking away, throwing her parting words over her shoulder. "Keep up."

Miguel watched her for a beat before jogging after her, the grin creeping back onto his face. "Is this the part where you start pretending you don't secretly like having me around?"

"Who's pretending?" she called back, but Miguel could hear it now— there, just beneath her usual stoic tone— a note of something lighter, like maybe she didn't mind him as much as she pretended.

And to him, that was enough.

Miguel fell into step beside her, hands shoved into his pockets, the silence between them hanging comfortably now. Hayden's pace was steady, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever, but he caught the subtle shift in her shoulders— like she wasn't as annoyed as she wanted him to think.

"So..." Miguel started, testing the waters, "does this mean I'm forgiven, or am I still on trial?"

Hayden didn't look at him when she answered. "Trial."

He let out an exaggerated sigh, his lips curving into a grin. "Fair. Any chance I can speed up the verdict?"

She glanced at him, just a flicker of her sharp gaze before looking forward again. "Depends. You any good at shutting up?"

Miguel barked out a short laugh, trying to contain it. "Okay, noted. Fewer words, more action. Got it."

They walked in sync for a minute, their footsteps a quiet rhythm against the pavement. Miguel stole a glance at her as they moved, taking in the way her hair fell forward, half-shielding her face. He could tell she was thinking— always thinking— and as usual, she wasn't about to let him in on what.

"So," he tried again, his voice softer now, "where are we headed, exactly?"

Hayden stopped abruptly, and Miguel nearly bumped into her. She turned to him, her expression still cool but her eyes sharper, like she was sizing him up. "You don't have to come."

Miguel tilted his head, lips tugging into something softer than a smirk. "I know. But I want to."

There was a beat— a quiet, heavy moment where Hayden just looked at him. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, she turned and kept walking. For a while, they said nothing, and Miguel didn't push it. The quiet between them wasn't awkward— it was intentional, something Hayden seemed to thrive in. And for once, Miguel didn't mind.

Eventually, Hayden stopped at the crest of a small hill, her bag dropping to the ground. She looked up, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. The sky was wide and dark, spattered with thousands of stars, clear and brilliant.

Miguel glanced around, confused at first. "You dragged me out here to... look at nothing?"

Hayden tilted her head, her gaze sharp even in the low light. "You're looking at the wrong thing."

She gestured upward with her chin. Miguel followed her gaze, and for the first time, really looked. The sky stretched out endlessly, deep and vast, like it belonged to another world. The stars felt impossibly close, scattered in patterns he didn't know how to name but couldn't stop staring at.

Hayden settled onto the grass, leaning back onto her elbows. Miguel hesitated, then sat next to her, their shoulders a few inches apart.

"So," he started quietly, his voice softer against the silence of the field. "Do you actually know what we're looking at, or do you just stare at stars and pretend you're deep?"

Hayden gave him a sidelong glance, the corner of her mouth twitching. "You aren't appreciating what's really there."

Miguel grinned. "Enlighten me, then."

She pointed upward, her finger tracing a trio of stars in the sky. "That's Orion's Belt. It's part of the Orion constellation. You see it?"

Miguel squinted, leaning closer to follow the direction of her hand. "Oh... yeah. Three in a row."

"Groundbreaking," she deadpanned.

Miguel laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "Alright, what else you got?"

Hayden's gaze shifted, still calm, still steady. She pointed further up. "That bright one there? Sirius. The dog star."

"Wait, I've heard of that," Miguel said, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about. "It's, uh... really bright."

"Wow," Hayden said flatly, her tone dripping sarcasm. "Did you major in astronomy?"

"Hey, I'm trying," Miguel shot back, grinning. "This is the first time I've actually looked at this stuff."

Hayden didn't respond, just dropped her hand and leaned back fully onto the grass, her eyes fixed on the sky. Miguel watched her for a beat, her face calm and soft in a way he rarely saw— like the world wasn't pressing on her for once.

He laid back beside her, his hands folded across his chest. The stars felt bigger from down here, stretching infinitely above them.

"You come here a lot?" he asked quietly.

"Sometimes," Hayden said, her voice low and even. "It's quiet. Makes everything feel smaller."

Miguel turned his head to look at her. "Smaller good or smaller bad?"

Hayden didn't answer right away. She kept her eyes on the sky, the faintest crease between her brows like she was deciding whether to let him in.

"Good," she finally said. "When everything feels too big, this helps."

Miguel watched her for a moment, his voice soft when he said, "I get that."

They fell into silence again. The field was empty and quiet, save for the sound of the wind moving through the grass and the faint hum of crickets in the distance. It wasn't awkward. It wasn't forced. It was just there.

After a while, Miguel broke the silence. "You think we could find the Big Dipper?"

Hayden tilted her head slightly, a small huff of air escaping her nose. "You're such a cliché."

"Come on," Miguel teased, nudging her arm lightly. "Isn't that, like, the easiest one?"

She didn't answer immediately, but when she did, her voice was quieter. "Over there." She lifted her hand again, pointing toward a corner of the sky. "Follow the curve of those stars. See the little scoop?"

Miguel squinted, his grin faint. "I think so."

"You don't," Hayden replied, completely sure of herself.

Miguel let out a short laugh, turning his head toward her. "I like it when you're like this, you know."

Hayden glanced at him then, one brow raising. "Like what?"

"Not pretending you don't care about stuff."

She looked at him for a moment longer, something flickering behind her eyes— something softer, quieter. Then she looked back at the sky. "I care," She murmured, "Guess I just have a tough time showing it."

Miguel turned onto his side slightly, propping his head up on his arm to look at her. His grin softened, turning more thoughtful. "You don't have to, you know. Not with me."

Hayden stayed quiet, her gaze still fixed on the stars. For a second, Miguel wondered if he'd overstepped— if he'd pushed her too far into a place she didn't want to go. But then she sighed, long and even, like the weight of the words was harder than she wanted to admit.

"It's not that easy," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "When you let people see too much, they use it against you. Or they leave. And then I'm left to pick up the pieces they broke."

Miguel blinked, his expression falling a little. He stayed quiet for a beat, letting the words settle between them like a delicate thread.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said softly.

Hayden turned her head slightly, just enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Diaz."

He shook his head, sitting up slightly, his tone resolute but gentle. "I'm serious. I don't care if you have a hard time showing things. I don't care if you're quiet, or stoic, or if you try to pretend you don't care about anything. I know you do."

Hayden stared at him for a long moment, her features unreadable, but her eyes said enough. Something flickered there— uncertainty, maybe, or disbelief that he could mean it.

Miguel offered a faint, lopsided smile, trying to ease the tension. "And you're stuck with me, so you better get used to it."

For the first time that night, Hayden's lips quirked, just barely. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Miguel to see he'd gotten through— at least a little.

"Stuck with you, huh?" she muttered, rolling her eyes lightly. "I must've been a serial killer in my past life."

Miguel laughed under his breath, leaning back onto his elbows. "I grow on people. Give it time."

Hayden didn't respond, but she didn't need to. She shifted closer, just a bit, like her silence was speaking for her.

And in that wide, open field, under a sky full of constellations, neither of them said anything more. The stars carried the rest of the conversation— silent and infinite, just like Hayden's quiet way of showing she cared.

And for Miguel, that felt like enough.

—

Hayden wasn't sure how she was persuaded to go to a beach club on one of their days off, when she would've much rather preferred lounging around her room all day, but here she was, suntanning at one of the most popular beach clubs in the Valley.

It was the opposite of relaxing for Hayden though.

Maybe it was the fact that the sun beaming down on her was giving her a minor headache or maybe it was the idea that she was around a bunch of strangers that had her on high alert, looking around and making sure she wasn't being messed with when she was off guard.

Finally, she gave up on trying to relax, standing from the chair and gaining Robby's attention from next to her. "I'm gonna get something to eat," She muttered as she walked off.

At the food counter, Hayden spotted a familiar face—Aisha, laughing with another girl Hayden didn't recognize.

"Hayden!" Aisha called, waving her over.

Hayden walked up calmly, her strides unhurried. She smirked slightly at Aisha. "Still breaking noses?"

"Only when necessary," Aisha shot back, grinning. "This is Tory."

Hayden turned her gaze on the new girl, appraising her for a beat before holding out a hand. "Hayden."

Tory took it, matching Hayden's energy with an amused smirk. "I like you already."

"It might be reciprocated," Hayden chuckled, looking back over at Aisha. "Sam's around here somewhere if you wanna—"

"We're not on good terms right now." Aisha cut her off, placing a couple of strawberries on her plate. "Have you seen the commercial her dad put out? Full on dissed Cobra Kai. Snake in the grass, like?"

Hayden shook her head, "I haven't seen the infamous commercial, but trust me, I've heard about it."

Aisha nods and somewhere along the conversation, Tory slipped away.

"Seriously, Hayden. You should consider Cobra Kai. We could totally use more girls there."

Hayden chuckled, nibbling on a celery stick. "Aisha, you know I love you more than I love myself. But after seeing what Cobra Kai did to Miguel? I think it'd do me more harm than good."

Aisha went to respond when Sam approached the two, a sudden awkward silence settling on them. Hayden flickered her gaze between the two, slowly taking a few steps back. "Yeah, I'm gonna.." She turned sharply, walking away from the scene.

Hayden set her plate on one of the tables, looking up. Almost immediately, she noticed Tory a few feet away, subtly swiping a bottle from behind the bar counter. She raised a brow, watching the bartender start to turn back.

"Hey, you!" the bartender barked, eyes narrowing. She watched Tory's eyes widen. "What are you doing? I'm calling the cops!"

Hayden stepped forward without missing a beat, calm as ever. "Sir, someone's looking for you over by the diner. Something about a thousand-dollar champagne spill."

The man's eyes widened in horror, muttering curses in Italian as he ran off, completely forgetting about the theft that just occurred.

Tory stared at Hayden, her grin wide. "Dude, I so owe you one. You just saved my ass."

Hayden shrugged one shoulder, sliding her hands back into her pockets. "No big deal. But that better have been for something good." Her hand brushed Tory's softly as she took the bottle out of her hand, not noticing the way Tory's cheeks tinted. "Vodka, decent taste."

Tory let out a laugh, looking at Hayden for a second longer, like she was sizing her up. "You're smooth. I like that."

"Don't get used to it," Hayden replied, but there was a faint gleam of amusement in her eyes.

They found Aisha quickly, both giggling like schoolgirls. "Hey," Tory begun in a sing-song voice. "Look what we got." She slipped the bottle out halfway.

"Where'd you get that?" asked a stunned Aisha.

"Swiped it from the bar. Hayden majorly saved my ass." Tory laughed and Hayden held her hands up in a shrug.

She watched Sam and Aisha exchanged worried glances, rolling her eyes. "Relax, guys. No one's gonna notice one missing bottle. They have hundreds of other ones." She reassured the two.

"You guys should put it back. You could get into big trouble." Sam insisted, voice tight with concern.

"And you are?" Tory asked with a chuckle that sounded condescending.

"Oh, Sam, this is Tory. Tory, Sam." Aisha introduced the two.

"Oh, the Sam." Tory raised her brows with mock surprise, glancing over at Hayden with an amused look.

"Come on. Like anyone's gonna miss one bottle of vodka. I could swipe half the silverware in this place before anyone would notice." Tory scoffed as she gave a glance around.

"And, really, who would notice?" Hayden shrugged.

"You shouldn't steal anything." Sam responded, her voice faltering from concern to annoyance.

"What are you, a nun?" Tory laughed, "Come on. Are we gonna drink or not?" She looked over at Aisha.

Hayden watched as Aisha contemplated this, looking between Sam and Tory before her gaze landed on her, like she would be her deciding vote. And like so, all gazes went to her. Hayden sighed, "One drink won't hurt." She looked Aisha.

This seemed to settle Aisha's decision, nodding. "Okay, one drink."

Tory grinned, "That's my girl." They grinned, walking away before Tory abruptly stopped, turning towards the two girls.

"You coming, Hayden?" she raised her brows, and Hayden looked over at Sam for a brief moment before nodding. "Yeah, I'm coming," she walked away, leaving Sam standing there alone.

—

"One more," Hayden said, grinning faintly. She wasn't drunk, but she was definitely past sober.

"Okay, okay!" Tory laughed as Hayden opened her mouth, and Tory expertly water-fountained the drink in.

They dissolved into giggles again, nothing particularly funny but the moment itself.

"Alright, that's enough for you two." Aisha shook her head, amused as she snatched the bottle out of Tory's hand.

"Let's go for a walk."

They climbed the stairs together, arms linked. The cool air hit Hayden's face, clearing some of the fog.

"I'll never forget the time you gave Yasmine a front wedgie." Hayden's voice was dry, but the faint smirk on her lips gave her away.

Tory's brows shot up, intrigued. "Wait— what?"

"It was all over YouTube. Serves that bitch right," Hayden said simply, nudging Aisha's shoulder in mock praise. "She deserved it. She was horrible."

Aisha grinned proudly. "Yup. Split that bitch in two."

The three of them laughed, walking together like they didn't have a care in the world.

Then a voice cut through from behind them. "Hey."

They turned to see Sam storming toward them, her expression sharp. "My mom's missing her wallet."

Hayden's smirk faded, and she glanced at Sam with cool disinterest. "And?"

"Yeah, sucks for her." Tory said once her fit of laughter died down.

"You wouldn't know anything about that?" Sam's tone held just enough accusation to set Hayden on edge.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hayden scoffed.

"Yeah, Sam," Aisha added, her tone turning defensive. "What are you saying?"

Sam folded her arms, narrowing her eyes as she flicked her gaze between Tory and Hayden. "Just give me the wallet, and I won't tell security."

Hayden felt Sam's eyes linger on her longer than on Tory, and something tightened in her chest.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Tory said, disbelief sharp in her voice.

"Sam, they didn't steal your mom's wallet," Aisha snapped.

Sam didn't budge. "Right. And they didn't steal a bottle of vodka either. And they wouldn't swipe half the silverware in this place."

Hayden exhaled through her nose, shoulders rolling back with practiced ease. "That's your evidence?" she asked flatly. "A joke?"

"A wallet's not a joke," Sam shot back, defensive.

"And neither are accusations," Hayden replied coolly. Her brow twitched slightly as her patience thinned. "You've got a habit of blaming me for things I didn't do," Her eyes locked on Sam's with a sharpness that made her meaning clear.

Sam's expression hardened. "And somehow you're always in the wrong place in the wrong time."

The girl sucked in a sharp breath, before she rolled back her shoulders, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Boarding school, was the only thought that held Hayden back from lunging at Sam right then and there. "We didn't take shit from your mom."

"Right. Because you're so trustworthy," Sam bit back.

"Careful," Hayden's voice dropped a note lower, controlled but cutting. "You're getting real good at believing the fantasies you create in your head."

Tory stepped forward, her voice laced with venom. "For the last time, we didn't rob your mom, bitch."

A tense silence washed over them before Tory scoffed. "Let's go," She muttered, spinning on her heel.

But Sam wasn't done. Hayden saw her lunge for Tory's bag, and her body moved faster than her thoughts.

"Don't!" She pushed Sam back— harder than she meant to. Sam stumbled, crashing into the table behind her, sending a tray of chocolate tumbling down with her.

The room froze for a second, but Hayden didn't wait around to see what came next. Her breath hitched as she glanced at Sam, sprawled in a mess of desserts. Hayden didn't say a word— she just turned on her heel and walked off, shoulders squared and face blank.

Tory caught up with her a moment later. "You okay?"

Hayden nodded, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "I'm good." Her voice was clipped, steady. She let out a small, humorless laugh. "But I'm gonna go home before she accuses me of stealing her phone or something."

Tory snorted at that, shaking her head. "Unreal. Like, how does her brain even work?"

"It doesn't." Hayden deadpanned. The words sat heavy on her tongue, bitter. She didn't want to admit it, but Sam's accusation had hit somewhere deep— somewhere Hayden hated being reminded of.

She didn't take Mrs. LaRusso's wallet. She'd never do something like that. Hell, she hated stealing in general. She hated the way it made her feel: small, desperate, like she was clawing for scraps. It wasn't who she wanted to be.

But Sam wouldn't know that.

How could someone like Sam— someone who'd never missed a meal, never had to wonder if their power was going to be shut off— understand? To Sam, Hayden was just a thief in waiting. A girl who didn't belong here, whose presence automatically made her suspicious.

Hayden clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.

"Seriously, though. Thanks for stepping in," Tory said, breaking the silence.

Hayden shrugged. "I'm not the type to let someone push people around."

Her voice softened, just slightly. "A lot of people are."

Hayden glanced at her, her expression unreadable. "Yeah, well. I don't like being accused of crap I didn't do." Her tone was sharper than she intended, but she didn't apologize.

Tory nodded, her smirk faint but genuine. "Fair."

They walked in silence for a moment before Tory asked, "Doesn't it piss you off? The way she acts, like she's so much better than us?"

Hayden stopped walking, turning to look at Tory. Her gaze was steady but heavier now, like she was holding something back. "It's not just her."

Tory frowned. "What do you mean?"

Hayden hesitated, her fingers brushing against the worn strap of her bag. "People like her... they don't get it. They don't know what it's like to have nothing and still have to keep going. They think it's easy to stay above water when they've never sunk."

"Trust me, I've come from nothing. I've met a lotta Sam's in my life. They're all the same." Tory muttered, letting the silence consume them.

"Here," Hayden said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a pen. She grabbed Tory's hand without waiting for her to offer it and scribbled something across her palm.

Tory frowned down at the number. "What's this for?"

Hayden stepped onto the board, the wheels rolling slightly beneath her feet. "In case you ever need someone who doesn't bullshit you, someone who knows what it's like to come from nothing.""

Tory blinked, caught off guard, before a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You're something else, you know that?"

Hayden pushed off with one foot, rolling smoothly away. Over her shoulder, she called back, "Yeah, well. So are you."

—

As the night went on, Hayden thought harder and harder.

She wasn't angry at Sam anymore, not really. She was angry at what Sam represented—the way the world seemed rigged for people like her, while girls like Hayden had to fight for every inch. But that anger wasn't new.

What was new was the nagging question in the back of her mind: What if Sam was right? Not about the wallet, but about who Hayden was. She'd stolen that vodka without a second thought. Maybe she hadn't gone as far as Sam accused her of, but wasn't this the same road?

She shook the thought away, tossing onto the side as she closed her eyes, tightly shutting them.

The light taps at her window startled her. Hayden's eyes darted to the sound, her hand instinctively reaching for the baseball bat propped against her door. She stayed frozen, her heart thudding until she saw a familiar face illuminated by the glow of the streetlight.

Miguel.

She unlocked the window, sliding it open with a deadpan expression. "Your ex is the worst person in the world." Her voice was clipped, blunt, like that was the only explanation Miguel needed. She stepped back, crawling into her bed like this was the most normal thing in the world. "We have a door, you know," she deadpanned.

Miguel grinned sheepishly. "Your mom just pulled up."

Hayden froze for a second, then shrugged, crawling back onto her bed as if sneaking in through her window was the most normal thing in the world. "Didn't think she'd actually be home tonight. Guess that makes two surprises."

Miguel hoisted himself through the window and shut it behind him, landing awkwardly on her carpet. "You should've warned me. What if she saw me?"

"Then I'd have front-row seats to the ass-kicking of the year." Hayden smirked faintly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She leaned back against her headboard, arms crossed.

Miguel shook his head, flopping onto the bed beside her. His eyes flicked over to her, curious. "Okay, so why is my ex the worst person in the world?"

Hayden stared up at the ceiling, silent for a beat too long.

"She's just a bitch," she said finally, but there was a crack in her voice. She sighed, shaking her head like she could physically toss the feeling away.

Miguel frowned, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her better. "What happened?"

Hayden stared at the ceiling, not answering right away. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk about it— with him, with anyone. But Miguel didn't look away, his gaze warm and patient in a way that made her insides twist.

"She accused me of stealing her mom's wallet." Hayden's voice was quiet now, almost too calm, but there was something sharp beneath the surface.

Miguel blinked. "Wait— what? Why would she think—"

"Because me and Tory, which, coolest chick ever by the way, swiped a bottle of vodka," Hayden interrupted, her tone defensive even though Miguel hadn't accused her of anything. She finally turned her head to meet his gaze. "Which, yeah, was dumb. But her mom's wallet? Like I'd stoop that low."

Miguel watched her carefully, saying nothing. Hayden hated it— hated how the silence felt like he was waiting for her to crack open.

"I don't know." She exhaled, her fingers digging into the edge of her comforter. "She just looks at me like—like I'm this... thing. Some lowlife who doesn't belong here. And I hate that it even bothers me because fuck her, right? But—"

"But it does," Miguel finished for her gently.

Hayden's jaw tightened, and she shifted her gaze back to the ceiling. "I grew up with nothing, Miguel. Like, nothing. Half the time we didn't even have hot water, but we made it work. And no matter how bad things got, I never stole from anyone. Ever. It's just not who I am."

Her voice wavered, but only slightly. She pressed her lips into a thin line, fighting the heat building in her chest. "But then she comes along, all perfect and rich and... safe. And she sees me, and it's like— that's all I am to her. Some poor girl who's just one step away from stealing the silverware." Hayden sighed, leaning back again. She looked away, her gaze fixed on the far wall. "She thinks she's better than me. That's what it is. I can see it every time she looks at me."

"Girls like her grow up with everything handed to them. Safe houses. Stable families. Their biggest problem is whether their prom dress matches their shoes. And then there's me."

Miguel didn't answer right away, and for a second, Hayden wondered if she'd said too much. She hated being vulnerable, hated feeling like anyone could see past the wall she'd spent years building.

She swallowed hard, her words faltering. For a moment, it felt like the wall she'd built around herself was slipping. The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Miguel didn't move, his expression unreadable.

Hayden shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling too exposed. "Forget it. It's stupid." She moved to stand, but Miguel caught her wrist, his touch gentle but firm.

"Hey." His voice was soft, steady. "It's not stupid. And you're not what she thinks you are."

Hayden froze, her heart thudding against her ribs. She didn't pull away, but she didn't look at him either.

"I'm serious," Miguel continued, his thumb brushing over the edge of her hand. "You're not some label, Hayden. You're more than that. And if Sam or anyone else can't see it, that's their problem."

His words hit her harder than she wanted to admit. For a second, she let herself meet his gaze. The way he looked at her— not like a project, not like someone he had to fix, but just... her— made her throat tighten.

But then Miguel leaned closer, resting his hand lightly over hers. "She doesn't get to define who you are, Hayden." His voice was soft but firm, steady in a way that made her pause. "You know who you are. And you're not whatever version of you she has in her head."

Hayden's lips twitched, almost like she wanted to smile but didn't quite know how. "What, are you a therapist now?"

Miguel chuckled, pulling back just slightly. "Nah, just a guy who thinks you're kind of a badass. Don't let her make you forget that."

Hayden smiled, turning to her side so she could fully face Miguel. "You were right,"

Miguel's face slowly morphed into one of confusion, tilting his head at her.

"You do grow on people."

For the first time that night, Hayden felt herself relax. Maybe letting someone in wasn't the worst thing in the world.

authors note.
As promised, more Miguel + Hayden content and I'm really proud of how this one came together, I thought it was so cute
P.S. I hate editing