Betty’s POV
Between catching up with the Unseen and dealing with the building tension with Ivy, I was exhausted. The days seemed to pass in a blur. But what really unsettled me was the change I noticed between Stacey and Brent. They seemed almost inseparable these days, laughing together, sharing inside jokes, as if they’d always been close.
And maybe they were. Maybe this whole thing with Stacey taking over the Unseen while I was grounded had shifted things in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
“Hey, Betty, are you coming?” Sasha called, jolting me from my thoughts. We were finishing up practice, and the others were gathering their things, heading toward the locker room. I nodded, joining them as I tried to shake off the lingering unease.
In the locker room, Stacey was packing her gym bag with her usual confident stride. She glanced up as I walked by, giving me a small nod of acknowledgment. It was strange, seeing her like this—no sneer, no smirk, just a neutral, almost friendly expression.
“Good work out there,” she said, her tone unusually genuine. “The routine’s coming together.”
It surprised me. Stacey rarely offered compliments, especially to me. I managed a nod, though. “Thanks.” I said cautiously. “We’re getting stronger. It’ll be good to go up against someone like Ivy.”
Stacey’s expression darkened slightly. “Yeah, Ivy. She’s something, isn’t she?” She zipped her bag with more force than necessary, her jaw tight.
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Stacey let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “It means you shouldn’t trust her. Ivy doesn’t just want to win—she wants to humiliate us. Don’t think for a second she’s playing fair.”
I crossed my arms. “And why are you telling me this, Stacey? Like you care.”
“Look, Betty, for what it’s worth… I’m in this with you. I don’t want to see her win either. This isn’t about liking you. It’s about not letting her walk all over me—or this team. If she takes you down, it’s bad for all of us. If you want to survive Ivy, you’ll need more than talent. You’ll need someone who knows how to fight dirty.”
I stared at her, trying to read her intentions. She looked almost… earnest. “Thanks,” I said slowly. “Guess, I’m glad we’re on the same side, then.”
Her face softened, and she gave a slight nod before turning back to her things. For the first time, I felt a shift between us, something like mutual respect. It wasn’t friendship—not yet, at least—but maybe it was something close.