Hazel Freeman stared at her reflection in the mirror, her heart racing.
Not from fear—but from anger.
They kissed in front of her without shame.
How could they?
She reached into her purse and took out her lipstick. There Hazel was, standing at the sink, fixing her lipstick with practiced precision, her expression tight with rage.
Fuming.
She felt defeated.
Heartbroken, even.
Behind her, the stall door creaked open.
"Hazel, you have to see this," Alexa said, practically skipping to the mirror, phone in hand. "It's literally blowing up the Gossip page."
Alexis followed with a smirk. "I mean, not that we're surprised. That kiss had more drama than the winter formal."
Hazel didn't look up.
Alexa turned her phone toward her. "Here. Someone got a close-up. Like, full-on jawline, hand-on-waist, lips-on-lips action."
Hazel's hand froze mid-swipe.
Alexis leaned in. "Look at Harper's face. She looks like she's in love. Or hypnotized."
