ELLE’S POV
Freedom tastes like strawberry lip gloss and feels like silver hoop earrings catching the light as I twirl one last time in front of my bedroom mirror.
Tonight, I'm just Elle—dressed to impress and ready to show this school I'm not someone to mess with.
My phone buzzes against my dresser, lighting up with my mom's name and photo.
"Hey, Mom," I answer, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder while I slip on my second heel. "How's the conference?"
"Boring as expected," she sighs dramatically. "All these dentists talking about molars for hours. How are you doing? Did you eat dinner?"
I roll my eyes even though she can't see me. "Yes, Mom. I had that pasta you left."
"Good, good." There's a pause, and I can practically hear her thinking. "So, about this party tonight..."
I move to the window, peering out at the darkening street. "It's just gonna go to Madison Blake's birthday party. Most of the school will be there."
"And Steven is going too?" Her voice changes slightly at his name, a hint of something I can't quite place.
"Yeah," I confirm, surprised she remembers him. "He's actually picking me up."
"Steven Smith," she says thoughtfully. "I still can't believe he's back in town. You two were such good friends before we moved."
I sudden had a flash of memories. Steven and me at twelve years old, racing bikes down suburban streets, sharing ice cream during summer breaks. Before my dad left, before we moved, before everything changed.
"Yeah," I reply, watching headlights turn onto our street. "Actually, he should be here any minute."
"Well," Mom's voice takes on that familiar protective tone, "tell him to have you home before eleven, okay? It's still a school night."
"I'll be back by ten-thirty," I promise, already knowing I'll keep it. Despite the new edgy look I'm sporting tonight, I'm still a rule-follower at heart. "I've got that English paper to finish anyway."
"That's my girl," Mom says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "Have fun, be safe, and—"
"I know, I know—no drinking, no drugs, no boys in bedrooms," I recite our familiar mantra, laughing.
"Exactly. Love you, sweetie."
"Love you too, Mom."
Just as we hang up, a car horn honks outside. My stomach flips with a mixture of excitement and nerves as I look out the window. Steven's sleek black car sits in our driveway, the overhead light revealing his silhouette behind the wheel.
I grab my small purse, take one last glance in the mirror, and head downstairs. The cool night air hits my face as I step outside, the scent of jasmine from our neighbor's garden filling my lungs.
Steven steps out of his car when he sees me, and I can't help the flutter in my chest at the sight of him leaning against his car door. The streetlight catches on his perfectly tousled hair, and his eyes widen slightly as I approach.
We meet halfway up the driveway, and he leans in to plant a kiss on my cheek. The casual gesture catches me off guard, but I don't pull away.
"Wow," he says, taking a step back to look at me. "You look good."
The compliment warms me from the inside out. When was the last time anyone had said something like that to me? Noah certainly never did, despite all the hours we spent together. All he ever noticed was if I hit a wrong note or came in late on a measure.
"Thanks," I manage, suddenly shy despite my confident outfit.
Steven holds the passenger door open for me, and I slide into the leather seat. As he walks around to the driver's side, I take a deep breath, calming my nerves. This isn't a date, I remind myself. It's just two friends going to a party. Friends who everyone thinks are dating.
The engine purrs to life, and we pull away from my house. Neither of us speaks for several minutes, the silence filled with the low hum of the radio. It's not uncomfortable exactly, but it's charged with something I can't name.
"So," Steven finally says, glancing over at me, "why do you look so hot tonight? Trying to impress someone?"
I laugh, the sound breaking through the tension. "I don't think I'm that hot."
"Trust me," he says, voice dropping slightly, "you are."
My cheeks warm at his direct gaze. "Um, do you know what everyone at my school is saying about us?" I ask, changing the subject.
Steven shrugs, eyes back on the road. "That we're dating?" He chuckles. "Yeah, I heard. Does it bother you?"
"Not really," I admit. "Actually, it might be nice to have people talk about something besides my 'incident' for a change."
His jaw tightens. "Those jerks who messed with your locker need to grow up. You should stand up for yourself, Elle. You need to show them you're not someone to mess with."
There's something in his voice—a hardness that wasn't there when we were kids—that makes me wonder what happened to him in the years we were apart.
"Speaking of jerks," Steven continues, "what's the deal with that Noah guy? He seems to think he owns the place."
I'm startled by the sudden mention of Noah. "How do you know about Noah?"
"Besides our little piano room showdown?" Steven raises an eyebrow. "I used to live in the same neighborhood as him and Mason before we moved. Mason was cool, but Noah..." He shakes his head. "Noah was always an arrogant bastard."
"Wait, you knew Noah before?" I sit up straighter, processing this new information. "How come you never mentioned that?"
"You never asked," Steven replies simply. "Besides, it's ancient history. We weren't exactly friends."
I frown, trying to reconcile this new information. "Noah is... complicated," I say carefully. "He can be controlling sometimes, but he's talented, and he was helping me with piano..."
"Were you two a thing?" Steven asks bluntly.
The question hangs in the air, and I'm grateful for the darkness that hides my expression. The memory of Noah's kiss flashes through my mind—unexpected, confusing, and followed by days of him acting like nothing had happened.
Before I can answer, my phone lights up, the ringtone cutting through the silence. Noah's name flashes on the screen.
"Speak of the devil," I mutter.
Steven peers over at my phone. "Noah? Are you two close?"
I shake my head, declining the call. "No, he's teaching me piano lessons, but I don't want him to anymore."
"I see," Steven says thoughtfully. "You want me to take over?"
I nod, relieved at the suggestion. "Would you? That would be amazing."
He studies me for a moment longer than necessary. "Did something happen between you two?"
The kiss flashes through my mind again—Noah's hands cupping my face, the surprised look in his eyes, the way he backed away afterward like he'd made a terrible mistake. The confusion I've been carrying ever since.
I want to tell Steven, to unburden myself of this secret, but something holds me back. It's too complicated, too raw.
We pull up to Madison's house, the bass from the music already vibrating through the closed windows of the car. Colorful lights spill from the windows, and silhouettes dance behind the curtains. The party is already in full swing.
Steven parks the car and turns off the engine. Instead of getting out, he turns to face me, leaning closer.
"If he ever bullies you like the others, let me know," he says softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm going to deal with him."
His face is suddenly very close to mine, his eyes dropping to my lips. He leans in further, clearly intending to kiss me, and panic flares in my chest.
I jerk backward, my back hitting the car door. "What the hell are you doing?"