Today felt like it was stretching endlessly before me—each minute heavier than the last.

“Ms. Parker, would it be alright if I switched seats with someone?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping to avoid drawing attention. The classroom erupted in light giggles, the laughter echoing in my ears more painfully than I could admit.

I glanced over at Haze, who was already studying me with that shark-like smirk—the kind that made me feel small and exposed.

“Look around, Evelyn. Everyone’s already paired up,” Ms. Webster said sharply, her tone dismissive. “You should’ve arrived earlier. Also, Mr. De Luca isn’t allowed to sit with any of his friends, so please, take your assigned seat.”

My throat tightened, the urge to scream or cry bubbling up, but I swallowed it down. Slowly, I moved to the desk beside Haze, the chair scraping against the floor louder than I wanted.

Expecting a cutting remark from him, I braced myself, but surprisingly, he remained silent, his gaze drifting lazily out the window.

“Alright everyone, the math problems on page 53,” Ms. Webster announced, her voice flat. “You can work with your neighbor.” She returned to her desk, pulling out her own notebook.

I started on the problems, the numbers blurring slightly as I stole glances at Haze. He was smirking quietly, watching something outside.

Following his eyes, I spotted Jason, Haze’s reckless best friend, bouncing with an unmistakable bundle—weed—in his hand. He gestured wildly toward the door, practically begging Haze to join him.

At first, Haze shook his head, but Jason’s pleading hands were impossible to ignore. After a tense moment, Haze sighed and stood up, making a beeline for the door as Jason dashed out of sight.

“Where are you going, Haze?” Ms. Webster called out sharply.

“Bathroom,” he answered without looking back.

“Turn in your work first.”

He clutched his stomach theatrically, and I rolled my eyes at the obvious act. “I don’t think I can hold it, Ms. Webster. That ice cream was a bad idea.”

Her face paled, eyes wide. “Well, take your time, Mr. De Luca. We wouldn’t want an accident.”

The class broke into laughter, the tension easing for a moment.

“Thanks, Ms. W,” Haze said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, before hastily exiting.

People like Haze always seemed to exist on another level. Born into wealth, with a family that drooled over him, everything he wanted was handed over on a silver platter. Want to captain the soccer team? Done. Want a girlfriend? There’s a queue. His privileged world was a bubble, impermeable and suffocating.

Left alone, I worked through the math problems, my pencil scratching quietly. When Haze returned, he smelled faintly of vanilla, a cover for the lingering scent beneath.

“That took a while. Feeling better?” Ms. Webster asked.

“Huh? Yeah, got through the battle,” he replied, eyes glassy and red. I caught the faint whiff of weed. Junkie.

To my surprise, he actually picked up his pencil and began working on the problems.

The bell rang, a signal for escape. Students flooded the halls, eager to leave.

I packed my things and made my way to the school entrance, where the usual group waited. Sometimes, I carpooled with them to avoid driving or when Dad was visiting.

Aaron was absorbed in his phone; Belly and Chase held hands, sharing a quick kiss before noticing me. They pulled apart instantly, as if they’d been caught doing something forbidden.

“Eve,” Chase started, hesitant.

“It’s fine,” I assured. “You don’t have to tiptoe around me.”

Belly grinned, pulling me into a warm hug. “This is why I love you.”

I hugged her back tightly. “Love you too.”

Chase lingered, his eyes clouded with disappointment.

Sure, there was something between Chase and me, but his heart leaned more toward Belly. They were my closest friends, and I wanted to be genuinely happy for them. Maybe what Chase and I had would’ve ended badly anyway, and I’d have lost both.

We set off toward Chase’s car, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the parking lot.

Just as we reached the exit, I caught sight of Haze and Ashley by his car, locked in a heated argument. They seemed like mismatched puzzle pieces—both bullies, both popular—but their connection felt forced. They posed for pictures together, but never with real happiness.

“Eve!” Belly’s voice pulled me back. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Hmm?” I replied, distracted.

She sighed. “I want you to be my campaign manager. I need two dozen flyers ready.”

Student body elections were approaching, and Belly was determined to win. It was a dream she’d chased since middle school.

“Anything for you,” I said simply.

“Why bother? You’re going to win no matter what,” Chase teased, turning a corner.

It was true. No one else was running, so the race was more for show than competition.

“I want people to see I care about this, though,” Belly insisted.

Aaron laughed. “Bells, just running proves that.”

Most here cared more about sports than student elections.

“We’re here, Eve,” Chase said as the car slowed. He glanced back at me. “Don’t forget to ice your back, okay?”

I nodded silently, stepping out. “See you tomorrow.”

They waved as the car sped away, leaving me alone in the quiet parking lot.

I sighed and slipped on my headphones, though I had no intention of playing any music.

Opening the front door, the warm scent of fresh cookies hit me. I hurried up the stairs, but Tom’s voice stopped me.

“Eve, you’re home! I made cookies!” he called, hopeful.

I kept climbing, pretending not to hear.

It wasn’t that I wanted to be rude. It was just… Tom was my stepdad. Mom had left Dad for him a year ago, and they married six months later.

Our once-happy family had shattered. Dad was gone, relocated to another state, struggling to stay in touch. He sent half his paycheck my way and tried to visit when he could, but it was expensive and rare.

I loved Dad with all my heart. No one could replace him.

At first, Tom was barely around—early to work, late to come home—but last month he started working from home. Suddenly, he was everywhere, making the house feel smaller and more suffocating.

I sometimes escaped to the library, but it closed last week for renovations.

I collapsed onto my bed, my back aching sharply against the mattress.

My eyes stung with tears I refused to shed in front of anyone else. Why had Haze singled me out? Why not someone else? Why me?

Reaching over, I grabbed the journal Dad had given me the night he left. He told me to write down any questions I had for him so I wouldn’t forget.

I pressed my back against the cold white wall, opening to the last page I’d written on, and picked up my pen.