It was between classes, the halls bustling with students heading to their next lesson that I had slipped into the restroom, hoping to have a moment of peace before the next period.
When I entered one of the stalls, I soon heard familiar voices filtering through the air—a sharp giggle, followed by a hushed but excited whisper.
Sophie's voice.
I stayed still, my hand freezing on the latch. There were a few other girls in the restroom, their voices echoing off the tile, and I quickly realized it was Guinevere and her lackeys.
Being one of the wealthiest families in the city, Guinevere carried herself with the same arrogance that all the elite students at our school did.
But of course, her family still ranked beneath the Rosettes. That didn't stop her from acting like she owned the place.
And why should it? I never retaliated.
My silence gave her the confidence to keep pushing me around, not physically, but emotionally. Little remarks, subtle jabs—each one a dagger to my reputation.
No one saw it, but I felt it every day. She knew how to strike just enough to hurt without leaving any visible scars.
I couldn't escape it. School had become a battlefield, and I was the one losing ground, step by step. If I ever dared to bring it up to Sophia or Sullivan, they'd dismiss it as unnecessary drama.
"Don't cause trouble,"
they'd say.
"Focus on what's important."
Of course, they didn't care. I wasn't really their child.
Just a piece on their board, someone to be moved around as needed.
"I
hate
to say it," Sophie's voice began, full of that sickening sweetness she always carried, "but Eve just keeps pushing it with young master Cole, you know? I feel sorry for the guy."
Sophie had a gift—she knew exactly how to stir the pot, especially when it came to gossip. She could manipulate rumors like a puppeteer pulling strings, setting the stage for the perfect fallout.
And when it came to Cole Fay and his cousins, she knew exactly how to wield their names like weapons.
insisted
. You know how she is."
"Wait, are you serious?" One of the other girls gasped. "Eve
begged
him?"
"I shouldn't say too much," Sophie replied with a soft, almost regretful sigh. "I don't want to make her look bad. She's . . . going through a lot, you know? But it's hard not to feel sorry for Lina. Eve is just making things so
awkward
for everyone."
"Wow, no wonder Lina's been distant from her," Guinevere added, clearly buying into the lie. "I feel sorry for you for having to attend such a woman. She has no class at all. She makes everyone in our status look bad."
Sophie gave a delicate laugh, like she was trying to downplay her own involvement. "I'm sure Eve doesn't
mean
to cause trouble. She just . . . well, you know. She's probably just feeling lonely. But honestly, I think she's making it harder for everyone."
The girls fell into a chorus of agreement, each one taking Sophie's words as gospel, spreading the poisonous narrative even further.
Behind the stall door, my fingers tightened on the metal handle. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to remain silent.
I knew Sophie had been trying to turn people against me, but hearing it firsthand, knowing how effortlessly she spun lies, was like a punch to the gut.
And the worst part? Sophie had done it so innocently, painting herself as a concerned friend, all while digging the knife deeper into my back.
It was why I hadn't suspected her before—Sophie was always so subtle, always so sweet on the surface, never the type to get her hands dirty.
But now, I saw through her act. This time, I wouldn't let the whispers and lies go unchecked.
Not anymore.
The best way to deal with bullies? You strike back.
BaaAmM!