HARPER REED IS A SLUT."
The words spread like wildfire. By the time the sun was properly up, the gossip page had already done its damage. Screens glowed in hallways, in the cafeteria, even outside the lecture halls. Students leaned into each other, whispering words Harper couldn't hear but somehow felt anyway. The picture of Damian and Harper was everywhere—grainy enough to keep the mystery, but clear enough to spark assumptions.
Harper had no idea.
She walked beside Tyla across the quad, books hugged against her chest, her steps quick as if she were late even when she wasn't. Tyla slurped on the last bit of her boba milk tea, trying to get Harper's attention, but sighed every few seconds when Harper didn't talk or complain. Harper, on the other hand, didn't notice the glances, not at first—the way conversations cut short when she passed, or the way people's eyes lingered a little too long.
