I didn’t go into the party. I went straight home.
On the way, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.
Ethan, pushing me. [Where are you? Everyone’s waiting. You’re making me look bad.]
A few of the others piled on in the group chat.
[Nora, what the hell? First post-grad hangout and you’re this late? Not cool. Naomi’s been here forever. You’re the only one missing.]
[Oh please, Miss Valedictorian’s got Lakewood in the bag now. Too good for us.]
Chloe sent a smirking emoji. Then the whole chat lit up with identical smirking faces, lined up perfect.
I stared at my screen, nails digging into my palm.
That same sick feeling—the isolation, the exclusion. It dragged me right back to freshman year.
Good grades. Quiet personality. The class hated me for it.
People drew on my books. No one teamed up with me in gym. During study hall, lunch break—I’d hear clusters of them in the corner, whispering my name, laughing.
Turn around, and it was like nothing happened.
That hurt is like wearing a shirt full of hidden needles. It pricks you at random, and you can never find the wound.
Back then, Ethan was in a different building, two floors away. But the second he caught on, he came straight to my classroom and threatened everyone.
Said I was the most important person in his life. Nobody touched me.
All through freshman year, he walked me to class, picked me up after, showed up every break, every lunch—late to his own classes half the time.
Even my parents said it. “Ethan’s a good kid.”
They trusted him with me.
And now? The one changing my applications, turning the whole class against me—it was him.
I started typing. [I heard everything. Stop pretending—]
Ethan posted in the group.
[Alright, knock it off. Keep going and she’ll actually cry. You know I’m the one who has to deal with her parents when that happens.]
I stared at those words. I didn’t cry.
I held it in.
I deleted my message, pocketed my phone, and didn’t respond to a single one of them. Then I found my parents.
I gave them the short version of what happened.
My mom cried, couldn’t help it. “How could Ethan do this? Let you get treated like this? I’m talking to his parents tomorrow. This is beyond wrong—”
My dad’s face went hard. He grabbed his laptop from the study, set it up in the living room, and tried to comfort me. “There’s still time. We can fix the applications.”
I looked at their worried faces and shook my head. “No. I’m not changing them.”
My mom froze. She took my hand, her voice tight with concern.
“Nora, you sure? You’ve been set on this for years.”
Dad worked long hours, always gone. Mom knew better than anyone how much Lakewood meant to me.
My room walls, my notebooks—covered in Lakewood. But she didn’t know the real reason.
I wanted it because of Ethan.
Now, everything was different.
I was going to live my own life.
A life without Ethan Hayes.
I looked up, steady. “I’m not changing the applications.”
“I wanted Lakewood because of Ethan.”
“But he changed my apps. He’s with someone else now. He got the whole class to gang up on me…”
“I’m done with him.”
“I’m going to Crestwood.”