Logan’s POV
The moment I stepped into the cafeteria, I knew something was off. People were whispering those stupid gossips. Laughing behind their hands. Glancing toward the entrance like they were waiting for a show.
My jaw clenched. I knew that kind of laughter.
And then I saw Vanessa.
Standing on a table in the middle of the damn cafeteria, holding a giant, pink, glitter-covered cake with Emma’s name smeared across it in messy, childish icing.
My stomach turned to stone.
I found Emma instantly—her face already tight with suspicion, her body stiff as she hesitated near her usual table with Sarah.
Vanessa’s voice rang out, loud and dripping with fake sweetness.
“Emma! There you are!”
Emma froze.
I didn’t like that.
I didn’t like the way she hesitated, like her body already knew this wasn’t just a joke. Like she expected to be humiliated.
The cafeteria’s attention snapped to her, the room suddenly hyper-focused, waiting for the punchline.
“Let’s give a big round of applause for the birthday girl!”
People clapped, cheered, whistled.
Emma’s face burned crimson.
But it wasn’t her birthday. Not even close.
My fists curled at my sides.
“Vanessa, it’s not—” Emma started, her voice strained.
“Come on, Em! Don’t be shy!”
Vanessa’s grin widened, sharp as a blade, and suddenly she launched into the most obnoxious, off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” I’d ever heard.
The cafeteria exploded into laughter, voices joining in, clapping along—not because they actually cared, but because Vanessa was making it a spectacle.
A public execution.
Emma stood there, stiff, trapped in the eye of the storm.
I was already moving, pushing through the crowd, shoving past bodies, but then—
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Make a wish, Emma!” she cooed, tilting her head. “And don’t forget the most important part…”
I knew what was coming.
Emma didn’t even have time to flinch.
With one swift motion, Vanessa shoved the entire cake into her face.
Emma’s POV
Gasps and laughter exploded around me.
The impact knocked me a step back, the force of the cake smashing into my skin, covering my face, hair, and uniform in sticky frosting.
The sickly sweet smell of artificial strawberry filled my nose.
I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t see.
My vision blurred with humiliation, the sound of laughter turning into static in my ears.
The cafeteria roared, people snapping pictures, recording videos, their faces blurring into a sea of mocking smiles and flashing screens.
Vanessa giggled, tilting her head in mock sympathy.
“Oops,” she said, not even trying to hide her smirk. “I guess I got a little carried away. But hey, at least now you’re the center of attention!”
The crowd howled, some pretending to clap like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.
I couldn’t move.
The cake was dripping down my neck, soaking into my uniform, sticky and suffocating.
Tears pricked my eyes, hot and traitorous, and I fought them back with everything I had.
"Don't you dare cry, Emma," I whispered to myself, blinking back the tears.
Not here. Not now. I wanted to run, to escape their cruel laughter and Logan's pitying gaze. But I couldn't show weakness. I had to be strong.
Then Logan was there, voice sharp as shattered glass. "What the hell, Vanessa?"
Could he really save me when I felt like I was drowning? The closer we got, the deeper I sank into this hell. And I didn't know how much more I could take before I broke.