Chapter 33
Bree
Rachel’s gaze landed on me, and just like that, so did everyone else’s. It was suffocating-sitting there with the weight of every pair of eyes pressing against my skin, feeling like they’d already connected the dots, already whispered the truth of Gabriella’s story in their heads. They know it’s
about me.
“Alright, Bree,” Rachel said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips as if she was grateful I’d snatched the attention away from Gabriella before she could twist the knife further. “Let’s hear
your story.”
My stomach lurched. I dropped my eyes to my trembling fingers, clasped tight together in my lap. Nervousness pooled in my chest like a storm cloud, each heartbeat a clap of thunder. But I had to do this. I had to speak, to defend myself-because if I didn’t, Gabriella’s version would become the
truth for everyone here, Gage included.
God, I just wished I’d told him first. I wished I’d had the courage to sit him down, look into those
impossibly kind green eyes, and let him hear the story privately-let me gauge the way his face
would change, the way he’d react. But now? Now the bonfire crackled between us, and the night air
seemed to tighten with expectation.
I drew in a shaky breath. “I’ve read a lot of stories throughout my life,” I began, forcing my voice to
stay steady even though my throat felt tight. “And one thing I’ve learned is that there are always
two sides to every story. The same events can sound entirely different depending on whose
perspective you hear.”
When I dared to glance up, Gabriella was waiting-arms crossed, chin tilted, one brow arched in
mocking challenge. She looked almost amused, as if my attempt to reclaim my narrative was just
another punchline for her.
But I wouldn’t break. I couldn’t.
“I know a story just like Gabriella’s,” I continued, straightening my spine inch by inch. My voice didn’t
shake this time. “But it’s told from another angle, another perspective.”
I let my gaze drift over the circle of faces-curious, skeptical, some even pitying-until my eyes
found Gage. He sat a few seats away, leaned forward slightly, watching me like I was the only
person here. My pulse faltered, caught in the intensity of that look. It gave me just enough courage
to keep going.
“I know this girl,” I said softly. “She was a little naïve. A little too trusting. And maybe a little too obsessed with finding what she thought was true love. She’d read all those books-you know the ones. The clumsy, awkward girl who somehow gets the guy. The one who’s perfect and patient
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and loves her exactly as she is.”
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The flames caught my attention then, pulling my eyes down to the fire pit. It felt safer to focus on them than the dozens of unreadable expressions surrounding me. The flames licked upward into the dark night, twisting and snapping, burning stubbornly against the weight of the shadows. I stared at them like maybe they could lend me some of their strength.
“She hadn’t had the best experience with love,” I went on, my voice quiet, almost confessional.” Mostly because she kept to herself. But also because she never thought anyone would want her. Then senior prom started creeping closer, and the thought of going alone? It hurt. It made her feel invisible. So she decided she needed to do something-to at least try-to have her own special
night.”
Memories slammed into me-sharp, vivid. The way my heart ached watching classmates get
asked in the most elaborate, public ways. The handmade posters, the confetti, the entire cafeteria breaking out into cheers when someone said yes. It was beautiful and awful all at once. Each grand gesture was a reminder that no one was planning one for me.
“She found out the king of her high school-the guy-had broken up with his girlfriend. And she thought, why not?” My lips trembled into a humorless smile. “There was this tiny chance he’d say
yes. And in her head, they had a connection. He’d smile at her when she passed him her notes in
class, he’d joke with her in the lab. It felt like…something. Like those little signs from her books.”
My heartbeat pounded harder and harder, loud enough I swore I could hear it in my ears. My palms
were slick, trembling in my lap. Fight or flight screamed through my blood-and for once, I chose
fight.
“So,” I said, my words a little steadier now, “she asked him. In the middle of the cafeteria, in front of
everyone. She knew it was a long shot. She knew she’d probably get laughed at. But she had to try.
And to her complete shock…he said yes. He agreed to go with her.”
I could still taste the memory of that happiness, how giddy and weightless I’d felt. Like the
universe had finally seen me. Like maybe I wasn’t the invisible, awkward girl anymore. Like maybe I
mattered.
“And after that? Everything felt like a dream. They went to the movies. They kissed in the dark.
They sent each other stupid memes and secret texts during class. It all felt so right.”
My voice wavered as the memories twisted bittersweet.
“They started dating. And to her, he became everything. Because how couldn’t he? She was already madly in love with him-or at least with what she thought love was supposed to look like. It felt like
her books come to life, and she believed every second of it.”
My breath hitched, but I forced myself to keep going.
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“So after prom…she gave herself to him completely. It felt right. It felt beautiful. He was sweet, tender. Everything she thought her first time would be. And afterward, he only seemed more
attentive. More loving.”
But even now, the questions gnawed at me, sharp and relentless. How much of that tenderness
had been real? And how much had been performance-carefully crafted to get what he wanted?
My throat tightened as the doubts pressed harder. How long had he been back with Jenna? How long after taking my virginity did he crawl back into her bed?
I swallowed hard, forcing those questions down. They’d eat me alive if I let them.
“They spent more and more time together,” I said. “She helped him study, helped him prep for
finals. He already had a full ride to his dream school-a place where he could play his sport, where
he’d have everything he wanted. And when they were lying there together, all tangled up, he’d
whisper about how amazing it would be if she came there too. If she could get in somehow. If they could spend every day together, learn together, grow together.”
A bitter laugh wanted to slip free, but I kept it inside. Instead, I just shook my head faintly.
God, I had been so stupid.
“He told her over and over that he loved her,” I said, my voice trembling even as a bitter, hollow laugh slipped through. It sounded wrong in my own ears-dark and sharp, like broken glass. “He said she was the one, the only one he wanted forever. He painted this perfect picture for them-
had it all mapped out in his head. The house. The Volvo. The kids. And, of course, the dog. She
was supposed to be right there with him, cheering him on, holding him up, helping him through life.
And the most messed up part?” My throat burned as I swallowed. “She wanted that. She was ready
to be whatever he needed her to be. Anything. Everything.”
My gaze wavered across the circle until it landed on Gage. His expression gutted me more than Gabriella’s smugness ever could. I saw it-felt it-the hurt flickering there already, simmering in the
green of his eyes. His brows drew together like he was trying to piece together how badly I’d been broken, and his lips pressed into a hard line. That pain wasn’t directed at me, not exactly, but it still
made my stomach churn.
I tore my eyes away and forced the words out. “So when she found out she got a full ride to his dream college-the one that had become hers just as fast-she wanted nothing more than to
surprise him. To tell him the best news she’d ever gotten. She couldn’t wait. She didn’t even want
to wait until morning.”
I could see it so clearly in my head-the giddy, naive rush of excitement that had once carried me.” She ran over there in the middle of the night, heart in her throat, imagining how his face would light up. How proud he’d be. How everything they’d dreamed about was finally coming true.”
My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms. “But when she got there… she learned
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Chapter 33
Maze Fawards
something horrible. Something that ripped her apart in one second flat. Because when she walked into his room, he wasn’t alone.” My voice cracked, but I kept going, because stopping now would kill me. “Apparently, he’d gotten back together with his ex. And he didn’t think that was worth mentioning. And the kicker? They hadn’t just gotten back together. They’d been hooking up for a while-sneaking around behind her back.”
My breath stuttered. I looked down, but the tears still blurred my vision anyway. My chest constricted with the familiar memory-Jenna straddling him, his hands on her, the way his eyes burned, not with shame, but with heat. Heat that had never been reserved just for me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears to stay put. They fell anyway.
“As if that wasn’t enough. As if breaking her heart into dust wasn’t cruel enough,” I whispered, voice raw, “she found out they’d been using everything against her. They made a f*******: group. A whole damn group.” My laugh was bitter, humorless. “And they filled it with pictures. Messages. Screenshots of her pouring her heart out. Pictures of her-pictures no one should have ever seen.”
The shame came rushing back so fast I felt nauseous.
“She’d been stupid, right? It was her fault. Everyone says so. Why would you let a guy take pictures like that?” My lips trembled, but I forced the confession out. “He told her she was sexy. That she was better than anything else he’d ever seen. He said he wanted to look at her instead of porn. That he wanted to remember her-remember what they had-when they weren’t together.”
I let out a shuddering breath, shaking my head at myself. “And because her self-esteem was
nonexistent, because she thought no one would ever look at her like that, she believed him. She let
him take the pictures. She let him praise her, her body, the clothes she wore-or the clothes she
didn’t wear.”
I opened my eyes, staring back into the bonfire. The flames blurred, distorted through tears I refused to wipe away.
“Everyone saw,” I said flatly. “Everyone at her school saw. They saw what he’d done. They saw what she’d done. She was humiliated-completely, utterly horrified. So she stopped showing up. She
skipped everything. Senior Day. Yearbook signings. Hell, she didn’t even pick up her own damn
yearbook. She just wanted to disappear. To start over. To see if maybe, somehow, she could heal.”
I forced my gaze toward Gabriella. And for the first time, her expression wasn’t smug. There was
something flickering there-hesitation, maybe even guilt-but I didn’t stop. Not when I’d finally found my voice.
“But apparently she can’t catch a break. Her dumb past keeps following her. She can’t go anywhere without someone recognizing her. Patronizing her. Bullying her.” My voice shook with fury. “And it’s ridiculous. What did she do that was so unforgivable? Was it falling in love? Was it daring to think she mattered? Was it believing she could catch the attention of the golden boy for
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once in her life?”
My chest heaved, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs.
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“All she wanted was a little happiness. And she had it-for a second. But now?” My lips trembled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Now she’s a social pariah. Her future? Gone. Because of those pictures, because of those actions. That school she got admitted to? The full ride? They’re rescinding it. Telling her to scrub her social media clean, or they can’t accommodate her.”
A sharp inhale cut the silence-someone gasped near me, but I didn’t look to see who. The rage
burning in my chest drowned out everything else.
“But who cares about her, right, Gabi?” My voice turned sharp, venomous. “Because she’s not
pretty enough. Not skinny enough. Not rich enough. So let’s keep hurting her. Let’s keep
humiliating her.”
I shot to my feet, my body trembling but standing taller than I ever had before. I stared Gabriella down like I could burn through her with sheer will.
S
“I’m done with this s**t,” I seethed. “I’m done letting you push me around, letting you bully me because I loved the wrong person. So go ahead. Tell them all. Tell them how stupid I was. How
much of a slut I was. Tell them where they can go find it.” I paused, seeing the flicker of surprise on
her face-the way she hadn’t expected me to call her bluff. “Go on. Tell them.”
Her voice faltered, unsteady. “Bree Morgan is a slut,” she muttered, staring down at the ground. ”
It’s called Bree Morgan Is a Slut.”
I nodded once, my throat tight and my eyes burning. The words stung, but somehow speaking them into existence felt…liberating. Like ripping off the last piece of duct tape that had kept me
bound in silence.
“Bree Morgan is a slut,” I repeated, my voice steady even as my chest shook. My gaze swept the circle, meeting eyes full of pity, some with guilt, some with shock. “If you want to see it, be my guest. Go look. But I’m done hiding.”
