She stopped walking.
Eddie almost crashed into her.
The look in his eyes nearly broke her: worry, confusion, love. All of it. Still there.
But she had to. Vic was watching.
"Stop following me," she said coldly, turning to face him. Her voice wasn't hers. It felt borrowed, strangled.
"What? What are you talking about?" His voice cracked like he already knew something was wrong. "Did I do something—?"
"You don't get it?" she cut him off, louder now. Loud enough for the hallway to hush. "I don't want you anymore, Eddie. You're pathetic. Always following me around like some lost dog."
Everything stilled. Heads turned. Whispered gasps spread like venom.
Eddie stared at her like she'd punched him. "Maya…"
"Seriously?" she snapped. "You thought this was real? This was nothing. Just a distraction. You were nothing."
Behind her, Vic leaned against the lockers, tapping his phone like a countdown. Then, casually, he tilted the screen just enough for her to see it again—her mother, slurring threats in a kitchen that used to be safe.
"One word to Eddie and I'll make you wish he never knew you."
She blinked once. Hard. Swallowed bile.
Sally gasped. Luna moved like she was about to interfere, but Zeke stopped her, murmuring something she couldn't hear.
"I don't love you," Maya said. "I never did."
He flinched.
"We're done. Stay the hell away from me."
She walked away before her voice broke completely. Didn't look back. Couldn't. Not with tears clawing up her throat.
Behind her, Eddie stood frozen in the middle of the hallway like someone had carved out his heart and left the hollow on display.
He reached for her wrist. Just a small, instinctive movement—like touching her might anchor something back in place.
But she jerked away like he burned her.
"Don't," she hissed, low and final. "Don't ever touch me again."
His hand dropped. Like it weighed too much to carry.
"Maya, please. Just… tell me what's going on," he said, voice cracking open like a wound. "If I hurt you, if something's wrong—"
She wanted to scream that she loved him. That this wasn't her.
But the words were barbed, stuck in her throat with all the others she'd swallowed to survive.
So she laughed instead.
It was sharp. Bitter. Ugly. Not hers.
"You think this is about you?" she snapped. "God, you're so full of yourself. You're nothing, Eddie. Get that through your head."
People were staring. A girl covered her mouth. Someone whispered, "Is she serious?"
His mouth opened. Closed. He was drowning and didn't even know how to ask for air.
Zeke took a step forward, but Maya shot him a glare so sharp it cut him down mid-stride.
"Back off," she warned. "This is between me and… whatever that was."
She didn't call Eddie by his name. Couldn't. Wouldn't.
Saying it might make her break.
He stood there, still trying to find something to hold onto in her eyes.
But there was nothing.
Only the cold mask she wore to survive.
"I was going to tell you I loved you," he whispered, almost to himself.
And that nearly undid her.
Nearly.
But Vic tilted his phone forward again. A reminder. A threat.
Her mother's voice rang in her skull like static.
"You talk, he dies knowing what you are."
Maya blinked hard. Then turned and walked away without a word.
Didn't cry. Not yet.
In the bathroom, she threw up. Twice.
Her legs gave out and she slid to the tiled floor, forehead pressed to the stall door.
She didn't know how long she sat there.
Everything burned.
Outside, laughter rang down the hall. Life moved on.
But inside her, something bled.
She didn't go to class.
Didn't answer Luna's messages. Ignored the dozen missed calls from Eddie. The one from Zeke. Even Sally, who never called—only texted—until now.
All she saw was Eddie's face. The way it shattered.
And Vic's smirk behind it.
She waited until the bell rang, then slipped out the back of the building.
That night, the dreams came back.
The ones where Eddie found out the truth. Where he looked at her not like someone he loved, but someone he pitied. Or worse—someone he hated.
She woke up screaming into her pillow.
Her throat was raw. Her sheets soaked.
No one came to check.
She wasn't sure what hurt worse—being alone, or wanting to stay that way.
Eddie didn't come back the next day.
Neither did Zeke.
Sally glared at Maya across the cafeteria like she wanted to punch a hole through her.
Luna sat alone on the bench outside, scrolling through her phone with shaking fingers.
It was happening.
She was losing them.
All of them.
And Vic?
Vic just walked by, tossed a folded note into her lap, and kept going.
No one saw.
She opened it under the table.
You did good. Keep it up.
She crumpled it with shaking hands.
And for the first time since this started,
she imagined killing him.
Not in theory.
Not in anger.
Just… ending him.
That night, the dreams came back.
The ones where Eddie found out the truth. Where he looked at her not like someone he loved, but someone he pitied. Or worse—someone he hated.
She woke up gasping, her sheets tangled around her legs, heart pounding like it had somewhere to run.
Her phone buzzed.
Vic.
Come outside.
She didn't want to.
Didn't move.
Another buzz.
Now, Maya. Or I send the video to everyone. Starting with him.
The room tilted. Her hands were shaking before she even realized she'd stood up. Barefoot, hoodie pulled low over her face, she slipped outside into the cold.
He was waiting by the curb, leaning against his car like he owned the night.
"Get in," he said.
She hesitated.
He smiled like a loaded gun.
She got in.
He didn't speak for a minute. Just drove. Quiet street. Empty lot. Nowhere special. The kind of place screams get swallowed.
"Unlock your phone."
She stared at him. "Why?"
"Because I said so."
She hesitated. That flicker of defiance, almost enough to spark something real. But then he pulled out his phone again. A tap. A pause. Her mother's voice—faint but audible—slurring poison in the background.
She unlocked her phone.
"Gallery," he said. "Find the one with you and Eddie. That one—after the game, where he's kissing your forehead like a damn puppy."
She didn't move.
"Delete it."
"Why does this even—"
"Delete it. Or I post what I've got and let the world decide what kind of girl you really are."
Her finger hovered.
"Do it, Maya."
She deleted it.
"Now open Instagram," he said, all calm and casual like this was just another Tuesday.
"No—"
"You want me to show you how your mother begged me ,or the part where she clearly mentioned how your father was not doing a great job ? Because I will. I'll play it on speaker. At the school entrance."
Her hands moved on their own. Opened the app.
"Change your relationship status," he said. "Single."
"Nobody even cares about that anymore."
"Do it anyway. Make it loud."
She typed it out. Pressed post.
"Caption?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
He leaned in, his breath sour with power. "Write: Finally free."
Tears burned, but she forced her face still. Typed. Posted.
The notification popped up instantly. Likes. Comments. Confused ones. One from Eddie.
"What is this?"
She locked her phone before the screen cracked from the pressure of her grip.
Vic leaned back, satisfied. "See? Easy. You're a quick learner."
She stared out the window.
He reached over and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She flinched.
"You keep doing what I say, and maybe this little show doesn't have to get ugly."
It was already ugly.
It was already too late.
He dropped her off two blocks from home, said something about keeping things discreet.
She didn't reply.
Walked the rest of the way in silence.
Every step felt like drowning in concrete.
That night, she didn't sleep.
Sat curled up on her bed, clutching her phone like it held the pieces of herself still left unbroken.
She imagined what Eddie was thinking. If he believed it. If he hated her now.
She imagined telling him everything. Throwing it all out into the light. Watching him walk away.
But then…
She imagined killing Vic.
Slowly. Quietly.
Without regret.