The next class felt normal enough—until it wasn’t.
I had arrived early, trying to keep my head down, blending into my seat near the window like I always did. The room was half-full. My notebook was open, but I wasn’t really reading. My eyes skimmed the same paragraph over and over while my brain wandered—mostly replaying the look on Marcus’s face when he saw me. The way his lips parted. The way his gaze didn’t drop. It felt too good to be real.
Then I heard his voice.
“Are you coming to the game tomorrow?”
I jumped.
He was already sitting beside me, his shoulder brushing mine, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Me?” I asked stupidly.
He grinned, tilting his head. “Yeah. Who else?”
My throat dried up for a second. He looked good. Too good. A little too close.
I cleared my throat. “I guess. I mean, yeah. I’ll bring my dad. He’s curious about you.”
That made something flicker across his face. Not quite panic, but close. His grin didn’t disappear, but it tightened a bit.
“Cool. Sit in the family section. I’ll find you after.”
There was something about the way he said that—family section—that made my chest flutter. Like I was part of something. Like maybe I had a place.
Then he leaned in again. “Come to lunch with us?”
I paused.
I knew what us meant.
His table. The center table. The one with all the players, the cheerleaders, the Instagram girls with lip gloss and perfect skin. The table where Stacey ruled like a pissed-off prom queen.
“You sure?” I asked, my voice quieter.
His eyes met mine, unwavering. “You’re mine, right?”
That stopped my heart for a second.
“Then that means you sit with me.”
The words echoed louder than the classroom ever could.
I couldn’t breathe for a second. I couldn't think. I just nodded.
—
The cafeteria smelled like fried oil and cheap cheese, and the noise was overwhelming as usual. Trays clattered. Someone shouted from the vending machine. Music blared faintly from someone’s phone.
His table was right in the middle, like always. Like a throne surrounded by loud, shiny courtiers.
Vel was already there, legs stretched across two chairs, sipping Coke and laughing at something on his phone. Kate was next to him, and when she saw me, her eyes brightened. She gave a quick, quiet wave. Encouraging. Warm. Like she knew I needed it.
And then there was Stacey.
She was across from Kate, one leg crossed over the other, perfectly still. Perfectly furious. Her expression didn’t change when she saw me. She just blinked. Took a sip of her iced tea. And watched.
Marcus slid into the open seat beside me, like this was the plan all along.
His arm went casually around my shoulders.
My whole body tensed.
“Hey,” he said, like we were already in the middle of a conversation.
I managed a soft “Hi.”
Then he turned his gaze to Stacey, his voice low but firm. “No drama.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. The weight of her glare on my face, on my chest, on my stomach—it said enough.
I tried not to shrink.
Vel leaned across the table. “Yo, Betty. You're actually gonna come cheer for us tomorrow?”
“Of course,” I said, almost surprising myself with how solid I sounded.
Kate’s smile widened. She nudged my foot under the table.
We started eating. Or they did, anyway. I mostly picked at my food, too aware of everything—my posture, my chewing, the way the cardigan bunched around my hips. But I forced myself to stay. To try.
Marcus said something stupid about Vel’s haircut, and I laughed before I could stop myself.
The sound surprised me. It sounded like someone else.
But it felt good.
And for a few minutes, I forgot to feel like a fraud. I joked back. I nodded at Kate. I even looked Stacey in the eye once, just to see what would happen.
She just kept sipping her drink. Cold and quiet.
When Marcus stood up to toss his tray, he tugged gently on my sleeve. “Come with me.”
I didn’t know what to expect, but I followed.
He tossed his trash, then turned to face me—and before I could speak, he wrapped his arms around me. Fully. Firmly.
Not a side hug. Not quick or nervous.
A full-on, real hug. His chin rested briefly against my hair, and I could hear his breath. Feel his chest rise and fall.
People saw. Vel whistled.
I flushed from my chest all the way to my scalp, heat blooming behind my ears.
He let go slowly, but not like he was in a rush.
When I looked over his shoulder, I saw Stacey.
Her jaw was clenched. Her drink was forgotten. Her eyes locked on us with this mix of fury and disbelief.
And for once, I didn’t feel like the afterthought in the room.
I felt chosen.