Chapter 13
Lily's Pov
I woke up with a pounding in my skull so fierce I thought it might split in two. My eyes fluttered open to blurry sunlight spilling through curtains I didn't recognize. I groaned and rolled onto my side, clutching my head.
"Ugh…" I mumbled. Where am I?
The room smelled faintly of coffee and antiseptic. I blinked, trying to focus on the unfamiliar walls and the too-neat dresser. My memory skipped back to last night, too much drinking, dancing, then blacking out after… after Joe saved me. I shivered at the thought of those boys.
A door creaked. My heart thudded. He saved me, Joe. I squeezed my eyes shut, reaching out. "Joe?" I croaked.
But the figure stepping into the doorway wasn't Joe. It was Mark.
My hand dropped back to the pillow. "Oh, thank goodness." I tried to sit up, but my head spun. He hurried to the edge of the bed.
"Easy," Mark said. "Don't move too fast. Here, take this." He handed me a beautiful mug. "Mango juice and painkillers. You're going to need them after last night's… nonsense."
I took the mug with shaky fingers. The warmth steadied me. "Huh…I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I've never been… such a disaster at a party."
Mark didn't respond. He turned away, heading toward the bathroom. I waited, sipping the sweet brew, but when he didn't reappear, panic tickled my spine.
"Mark?" I called. "Please don't go…"
He emerged a few minutes later, face drawn. I sat up, propping pillows behind me. "Please talk to me," I pleaded.
He froze halfway to the door, then whirled. "Talk? Talk to you?" His tone was sharper than I expected. "You think sorry cuts it?"
He stalked back to me and held out his phone. "Look at this." His thumb flicked through the photos. My heart sank when I saw myself plastered on the screen, vomiting on the lawn, dancing clumsily, stumbling around. The caption read: "Birthday Girl Gone Wild" trending on the school forum.
"Mark…i…" I started, but he cut me off.
"Not only is everyone laughing at you, I've got to explain these photos to half the school. And you know what?" He shoved the phone closer. "Do you see how this messes up my image?" he continued. "Everyone's talking about it, about us, about me."
I want to crawl under the bed and disappear.
"I…" I groped for words. "I was drunk. I didn't mean…"
He shook his head. "That's not the point. You're trending, Lily. And you are my girlfriend."
Tears stung my eyes. "I'm so sorry I let you down."
He glanced away. "The driver will get you to school when you're ready." With that, he spun and left, slamming the door.
I sat there, a coffee mug slipping from my fingers, tears soaking my sheets. He was right: I'd made a fool of myself, and hurt him in the process. Somehow, Joe's quiet rescue felt a consolation, but now… I feel ashamed of both the party and my relationship.
***
The ride to school was unbearable. I pressed myself against the seat, wanting to disappear under my hoodie. By the time I reached campus, students were already gathered for morning announcements, whispering as I walked by. Every head turned, every eye on me, the birthday girl who went wild.
I ducked into the building, my heart racing.
At the principal's office, I caught sight of Malcolm Ivan, the bully who had cornered me in the bathroom last night. He stumbled out, wrists handcuffed, guided by two stern-looking wolf-enforcement officers. His face was a map of bruises, cheeks swollen, black eye mess.
My breath caught. Joe had done that. He'd beaten Ivan and called the police. I swallowed hard. Joe hated me… yet he'd risked everything to save me and punish my attacker. Why?
I shook my head and hurried past, tears pricking my eyes. Today was supposed to be about student council elections and math quizzes, not this surreal blur of humiliation and unexpected heroism.
***
By afternoon, a buzz ran through the halls: the high school basketball teams were playing a friendly inter-school match. The main event against the rival academy took place after school closed. So it's rehearsals first. Everyone talked about Joe and Mark, our top athletes. I should've felt proud, but I felt… I don't know exactly how I felt.
I slipped into homeroom just as Ms. Ade's voice carried. "Roll call for cheerleaders!"
I glanced down at my schedule. Cheerleaders? That couldn't be right.
"Lily Mittens?"
I froze. Heads turned my way, girls whispering. Sonia, sweet, scheming Sonia, smiled brightly at me from the back.
"Yes," I mumbled, standing. My cheeks flamed. "I…um, I guess I'm on the squad."
Ms. Ade nodded. "Excellent. We'll meet after class to rehearse chants."
I sank into my seat. My best friend had volunteered me for cheerleading. On the biggest sports day of the year. Me, public spectacle.
"Sonia!" I whisper-snap, turning to her.
She grins like the devil herself. "You're welcome."
"You're so dead to me," I hissed.
"Come on," she teases. "You need to come out of that little shell. You're a cheerleader now, babe."
I groan. This is her way of forcing me to face the world. Unfortunately, the only silver lining to this humiliation is that cheerleaders get access to the locker rooms… meaning I can see Joe.
Not like that's a great idea. But still.
***
After class, the gym's bleachers swelled with students. Joe and Mark warmed up on the court. Joe's focus was intense, his muscles tensing, eyes scanning. When he locked eyes with me for a second, I looked away, ashamed.
Our cheer squad lined up along the railing. I forced a smile and shook pompoms, chanting the first cheer: "Go, Shades! Go, Shades!"
The game roared to life. I whirled through cheers, but my eyes kept drifting to Joe's corner, where he sank three-point shots with casual grace. Mark soared for slam dunks, thunder roaring.
During a timeout, the coach signaled us to run the tunnel cheer. I burst from the bleachers, hoisting my pompoms high. Shooting stars of confetti fell from the sky, and I jumped, yelling: "Defense! Defense!"
The crowd went wild. I felt… powerful. For a moment, I forgot my headache, my tears, my ripped dress. I was part of something bigger.
When the final buzzer rang, the high-fives and cheers resumed. I jogged off the court with the squad, dripping in sweat and exhilarated. As I grabbed my bag from the locker room bench, I realized this was my chance.
Most students had streamed out for a quick break. Most of the players were still on the field. I ducked into the quiet rows of lockers, my heart pounding. I scanned for Mark, he'd be with his team or… Joe.
And there he was, at the far end, peeling off his jersey. His back was to me, shoulders broad, hair damp. My chest tightened.
Damn, he looked so good with sweat dripping down his back.
That was it. I took a deep breath and walked toward him.
"Say something", I steamed in my head.
His head lifted, but before I could speak, he turned on his heel and strode past me, eyes fixed ahead.
"Joe?" I called softly.
He didn't slow down. Instead, he just kept walking until he'd disappeared through the locker room door.
My body felt frozen. I stood there amid emptiness, my pompoms drooping at my sides, bleacher noise echoing through the vents, and realized he left me standing alone.
My breath caught in my throat. I'd chased him all day to thank him, to maybe… reconnect. And he ignored me.
A wave of humiliation, of longing, crashed over me as I sank onto the bench. The echo of my own heartbeat pounded in my ears.
And in the hush of that empty locker room, I finally understood, Joe really hated me.