Marcus
I couldn’t think straight.
Betty’s voice kept echoing in my head, cold and certain, like she’d carved the words into my bones.
“You hurt me more than anyone ever has.”
She hadn’t yelled. She’d just looked at me like I was nothing. Like I meant nothing. And that was worse than any scream.
Because it meant she meant every word.
She was done.
And I couldn’t blame her.
I had spent weeks telling myself that I was changing, that I cared about her more than the plan, more than the game. But I’d never actually done anything to prove it. Not when it counted.
I let her walk away. I let my dad write that message. I let the silence stretch when she needed to hear the truth.
I was a coward.
And now she was gone.
I was still standing behind the gym, fists clenched, trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do next, when I heard the click of heels behind me.
“I told you this would happen,” Stacey said, her voice soft and smug. “You went soft. She couldn’t handle it. But now that it’s over... we can stop pretending.”
I turned my head just slightly, my jaw tight.
She stepped closer, smiling. “You and me—finally. We’ve always had chemistry, Marcus. Everyone sees it. We’re the real power couple.”
I stared at her.
Her confidence didn’t waver. “I’m not mad about what happened. I know you had to play the long game. But I think you’ve proven your point now. She’s gone. She was never meant for this world.”
She reached for my arm.
I jerked away.
“Are you dumb?” I said, loud.
People turned. Students walking by slowed their steps. Conversations dipped.
Stacey blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I said, are you dumb?” I repeated. “You think this is what I want? You?”
Her face stiffened.
“I don’t love you,” I said, and my voice carried. “I’ve never loved you. You’re manipulative. Selfish. Vile. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You ruined everything.”
More people were watching now. A small crowd was starting to form around us, whispers darting back and forth like flies.
Her mouth opened, then closed again.
“I was stupid to ever let you near me,” I continued, my voice shaking—not from nerves, but from rage. “You didn’t just go after Betty. You humiliated her. You broke her down. And I stood by because I was too much of a coward to stop you.”
“You’re overreacting,” she snapped, her face flushing.
“No. I’m finally reacting. For the first time.”
Stacey’s mask cracked. Just slightly. Her hands trembled, and her eyes darted around at the crowd forming.
“You’ll regret this,” she said, her voice pitching higher. “You’re humiliating me!”
“Good,” I said flatly.
Laughter broke out. Not just snickering—real laughter. Someone actually clapped.
Her eyes widened. She backed away, shaking her head. “You’re nothing without me.”
“I was nothing with you,” I said.
That’s when she cracked.
Her lip trembled, her face contorting into something raw and furious. She turned and shoved her way through the students, tears streaking down her cheeks.
And for the first time ever, I didn’t feel bad.
Because she hadn’t just hurt Betty.
She’d nearly ruined her. And she’d almost ruined me too.
But not anymore.
I pulled out my phone and opened a new message.
Betty, I messed up. But I’m going to fix this. Whatever it takes. Even if you never forgive me, I’m not stopping until I make it right.
I hit send.
And prayed she would read it.