Betty’s POV
I walked through the hallways like I didn’t exist. I’ve been the main topic of the rumors again and Megan who, according to them is the slimmer, better version of me. If I didn’t make eye contact, if I kept my head down and my focus on the textbooks I carried like a shield, maybe people would stop noticing me altogether.
Brent tried once or twice—his voice soft as he called my name—but I ducked away before he could get close. Stacey? She didn’t even try. She just gave me that look, the one that screamed, Why are you doing this? but she didn’t say anything.
Good. It was easier this way.
Easier to ignore the ache in my chest. Easier to shove all the confusion, the anger, the betrayal into the back of my mind and focus on school instead. Formulas and essays didn’t lie to you. They didn’t leave you feeling raw and empty.
But then there was Marcus.
He texted every day. Short, flippant things like, "Miss me yet?" or "You can ghost Brent, but you’re stuck with me." I read them all and ignored every single one.
Most of the time.
***
The knock on my dorm door came while I was supposed to be reviewing my chemistry notes. My head snapped up, and my heart sank.
"Betty," Marcus’s voice came through the door, too calm, too steady.
I froze, my pen hovering over the page.
"Go away," I said, trying to sound indifferent. My words came out clipped and shaky instead.
"Not until you tell me what’s going on.".
I exhaled sharply. "I’m fine," I said, louder this time. "Just leave me alone."
"You’re a terrible liar, Betty."
My hands curled into fists. I yanked the door open, glaring at him. "What do you want from me, Marcus?"
He stood there, perfectly at ease, leaning against the doorframe like he didn’t have a care in the world. "Maybe I just miss the girl who kissed me like her life depended on it."
Heat rushed to my face, and my anger rising to match it. "We were both desperate that time, and you know it."
"You really believe that?" He leans closer, raising an eyebrow.
My heart pounded, and I hated how his eyes seemed to see straight through me.
"Go to hell," I muttered, slamming the door in his face.
I leaned against it, pressing my back to the solid wood. There was silence for a moment on the other side. Then I heard his quiet laugh. "Goodnight, Betty," he said, before his footsteps retreated down the hallway.
I let out a shaky breath, sliding down the door until I was sitting on the floor. My emotions swirling between anger, embarrassment, and something I didn’t want to name. I wrapped my arms around my knees, burying my face against them.
I could pretend to shut everyone out. Stacey, Brent, Marcus. But every time I thought I was starting to patch myself back together, Marcus would show up, knocking everything loose again.