The familiar sounds of lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floors, and students laughing filled the hallways. But beneath it all, I heard the whispers.
"That's her."
"Can you believe she came back?"
"She was pregnant, right?"
I clenched my books tighter. I had expected this. I had prepared myself for it. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Some students cast me glances full of sympathy, but others—especially the ones who lived for gossip—watched me like they were waiting for the next piece of my life to unravel.
Alyssa met me at my locker, her warm smile a rare comfort. “You okay?” she asked, leaning casually against the lockers, but I knew she was studying my face.
I forced a shrug, keeping my voice neutral. “Fine.”
She frowned. “Emma—”
“I said I’m fine,” I snapped, then exhaled, feeling the weight of my exhaustion. “Sorry. I just… I’m tired.”
Alyssa nodded, understanding. “Look, people are gonna talk, but you don’t have to listen to them. You just need to survive today, okay?”
Before I could answer, the hallway went dead silent.
Vanessa.
She walked in like she owned the place, her chin high, her eyes scanning the hallway as if daring anyone to say something. Her hand rested on her stomach. She wasn’t even showing yet, but she made sure people noticed.
And behind her—Logan.
His usual confidence was missing. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pockets, his eyes avoiding mine as he followed her in. But I didn’t miss the way Vanessa smirked when she caught sight of me, or the satisfied gleam in her eyes.
I turned away quickly, my heart hammering.
I wasn’t going to fall apart.
Not here. Not now.
Later that afternoon, I walked into the clinic, my sanctuary from the chaos of school. Dr. Foster greeted me with her usual kind smile, handing me a clipboard as if she knew how much I needed to focus on something real.
“We’ll start you with sorting patient files and assisting with room setups,” she explained, leading me to a small workstation. “It might seem like busy work, but trust me, it’s the foundation of everything else.”
I nodded, grateful to feel useful for once.
For the next few hours, I lost myself in the routine—reading case files, organizing paperwork, shadowing Dr. Foster as she spoke with patients. It was the first time all day I wasn’t drowning in whispers and stares.
But when I got home that evening, reality came crashing back.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone. My fingers hovered over Logan’s contact, tempted to type out a message.
What would I even say?
I miss you?
I hate you?
Do you still think about me?
But I knew the answer to that. He didn’t.
Because now, he had Vanessa.