SAVANNAH
Mom’s car slows as it pulls up to the familiar brick steps of Westlake High. The sun is barely high in the sky, casting a soft morning light that makes everything feel a little bit warmer. "Here we are," she says, her voice cheerful but distant, already tugging on her sunglasses as she turns toward me.
I grunt as I shift my backpack, my boots scraping lightly against the pavement. I look up at her, the same distraction in her smile that comes whenever she’s got too many things on her plate. “I have to be at the office by eight-thirty,” she says, already starting to back out. “Remember, no pick-up today. You’ll need to figure out another ride.”
I nodded in understanding.
“Love you! Have a good day!” she calls, her attention back on her phone as the car rolls away.
“Love you too, Mom,” I say, but she’s already gone.
I step onto the sidewalk, dragging my feet as I make my way across the street. I glance up, feeling the light breeze in my face, and spot him.
Blake.
I don’t know why I feel this tug in my chest when I see him. He’s standing near his car, books in hand, looking way too cool with his quilted gray jacket and dark hair falling in messy strands over his eyes. I notice the moment his eyes flick to me. Just a second, maybe two, before he looks away quickly, pretending to fuss with his sneakers.
I can feel the heat of embarrassment in my face immediately. Of course he looked away. But why does it still sting?
A lump rises in my throat, and I try to shake it off. Yesterday, after that kiss, I convinced myself I was reading into things too much. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this—fall into some hopeful thinking about him. Tyler warned me.
I step into the building, weaving through the students chatting and laughing in the halls, trying to ignore the small knot in my stomach that won’t loosen. It’s a normal morning, just another Thursday, and I have to make it through.
The hallway narrows as I climb the stairs, and the fluorescent lights hum above me, making everything feel a little less vibrant. And then, like a bad omen, I see her.
Alyssa.
Leaning against a locker with that stupid smirk plastered across her face. Her eyes narrow when she sees me.
“Hey, muffin,” she sings, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.
Her voice drips with mockery, and the girls behind her snicker, rolling their eyes as they join in. “Muffin, muffin,” they echo in a chorus of cruelty.
I freeze.
“Where are you heading, muffin? Need a muffin pan?” she taunts. “We can save you a bowl, you know. Might need it to bake your way out of here.”
Alyssa laughs, a short, mocking trill that makes everyone around her crack up. I can feel my throat tightening, the sting of frustration building behind my eyes. The last thing I want today is a fight. The last thing I want is more drama.
I push my headphones in, trying to ignore them. “Just leave me alone,” I mutter flatly.
I walk past her as quickly as I can, making my way toward the classroom door, my legs feeling like jelly.
I finally step into the classroom, closing the door quietly behind me. Alyssa also walked in as I set my bag down at my desk, hands shaking just a little. I try to breathe, but it feels like the air’s been sucked out of the room. I can hear the faint murmur of students settling in.
The classroom buzzes with chatter as I slide into my desk, my fingers fumbling with my notebook. I can hear Alyssa’s voice behind me, still so loud, so obnoxious. She’s talking to Jennifer and Madison, and I can tell from their laughter they’re picking up where they left off.
“You’re really into the muffin thing, huh?” Alyssa’s voice is thick with sarcasm. “Maybe I should start baking, sell some fresh muffins around here. Might make more friends than someone who can’t even get to class on time.”
Jennifer’s laugh is sharp. “Oh, I’m sure Savannah’s got plenty of time for muffin-making... if she can stop stuffing her face for five seconds.”
My stomach tightens, and I focus on my desk, trying to block them out. The words still hit, though, like daggers, sharp and unrelenting. I don’t want to cry. I won’t cry. But everything in me wants to just disappear.
The laughter that follows hits me in waves. The kind of laughter that makes you feel small, that makes you feel like you’ll never fit in.
I hear a movement to my left and look up, to see Blake. My heart skipped a beat.
He steps into the room just as the last laugh dies down. His eyes immediately lock on me, and for a split second, everything else fades. But then his gaze shifts, gliding past me like I don’t even exist. His focus goes straight to Alyssa.
“Enough.” His voice isn’t loud at first, but the word is enough to make the room fall silent, every head turning toward him.
Alyssa’s smirk falters for a moment. “What? What’s the problem, Blake?” she asks, flipping her hair over her shoulder like she’s not bothered at all.
Blake’s jaw tightens. “You’ve been at this for long enough,” he says, his voice low but fierce. He steps toward her, each stride measured, the anger in his face growing.
Alyssa’s eyes widen slightly, and she takes a step back. “Excuse me?”
Blake takes another step forward, his tone becoming sharper. “You think you can bully Savannah because you get a laugh out of it? Not anymore. I’m taking your name off the club list.”
Alyssa’s mouth drops open. “What?” she spits, looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “You can’t do that!”
Blake’s eyes narrow. “Watch me.” His words slice through the tension in the air.
Jennifer, not wanting to be left out, leans forward from behind me, her voice cutting through the quiet. “Oh, come on, Blake,” she sneers. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a joke.”
Blake turns on her so quickly it’s almost like he’s been waiting for this. “You want to keep making jokes about Savannah?” he growls, his fist slamming against the desk. “Try me. I’ll make sure you regret it too.”
Jennifer takes a step back, clearly thrown off by the anger in his voice. She opens her mouth to say something else, but Blake cuts her off with a single, dangerous look.
Madison, not to be left out, throws in her own sneer. “Oh, what’s going on, Blake? Since when do you care about muffin jokes?”
Blake’s eyes lock on hers, his voice dropping into something cold and serious. “I’m the only one who gets to make jokes about Savannah,” he says, each word slow and deliberate. “Got it, Madison?”
The classroom is dead silent now. I can feel the weight of his words pressing against me, the air heavy with disbelief. The quiet stretches on, no one daring to speak. Blake’s gaze sweeps across the room, daring anyone else to challenge him.
I stand frozen in place, mouth slightly open in shock.