Chapter 3

Tori POV

Sophomore year, when the Iron Triad cranked their bullying into overdrive, she folded like wet paper. Instead of standing with me, she jumped ship- and right into their circle. She didn't just abandon me. She joined in.

"Oh shit! Vicky, is that you?" Sadie leans forward, her glossy smile stretched so wide it's a wonder her face doesn't crack. Her eyes, though, betray her. The malice behind them gleams like a knife hidden under silk.

"I go by Tori," I say, my voice steady despite the rage prickling under my skin. I take Thorne's card, ignoring the tremor threatening my hands. I focus on the register, forcing myself to act like it's my first day and I need every ounce of concentration just to hit the buttons correctly.

"Really? Weird!" she chirps, leaning over the middle console until her cleavage is practically in Thorne's lap. It's a spectacle, one I refuse to dignify with a response.

"Not really," I mutter, handing him the card and receipt through the window without once meeting his gaze. I keep my eyes locked on our hands, unwilling to face those eyes. I can still see them, clear as the day they haunted me in the dark- smoldering behind a cigarette's ember, black as coal, cold as the void where his heart should be.

Sadie, oblivious or simply indifferent, keeps chattering. "Oh, come on. Vicky was so cute! I mean, I came up with it, so obviously, it would be. It was so perfect."

"It wasn't." My tone is clipped, my patience thinner than my budget. "That's why I never liked it."

Maci appears beside me, holding their drinks, but it's obvious her focus isn't on the cups. Her eyes rake over Thorne like he's a rare steak on an empty stomach. Not as appetizing as she thinks, I want to tell her, but I let it be. Anything to be done with this encounter faster.

Three years I've worked here. Three years of blessed anonymity, carefully chosen by picking a job outside of town and avoiding anyone from high school. Yet here they are, dredging up memories I'd happily buried. I'd rather run into the boy I accidentally flashed in gym class than these two.

"We should invite her," Sadie whispers to Thorne, her voice carrying just enough for me to catch. My stomach knots. Whatever she's scheming, it's nothing good.

"Hey, Vic- Tori!?" her voice rings out again, syrupy sweet.

I plaster on a smile so fake it might as well be modeled after hers and meet her gaze, those baby blues framed by curtain bangs she probably paid way too much for. "Is there something else I can get you?"

"We're having a party this weekend at my house!" she announces, her grin as genuine as her surgically enhanced Ds. "You should totally come!"

"Um, yeah. I'll think about it. Thanks." My tone is neutral, noncommittal. Anything to end this conversation.

The air thickens with awkwardness. Thorne hasn't said a word, his gaze locked on the windshield, jaw clenched like he's grinding glass between his teeth. Sadie, unfazed, pats his thigh like he's a prized pet she owns, then turns her saccharine smile back to me.

"Great! See you there!"

Fat ass chance.

As their truck pulls away, I feel my lungs expand fully for the first time since they arrived. It's as if their presence had sucked all the oxygen from the room.

There's no way in hell I'm going to that party. I can't. I won't.

But a tiny, traitorous part of me lingers on her invitation. It wonders. It craves. Maybe it is what I need- to prove to them, and to me, that I'm not the same girl they crushed under their boots in high school.

Maybe it's time to prove to myself that I'm not the same girl I was in high school.

My heart pounds, vibrating in sync with the bass thundering through the house. The soft glow of blue LED lights strung along the floor and ceiling offers just enough illumination to make out party goers' faces- just barely. Everyone wears glow-in-the-dark necklaces, casting a faint, otherworldly light over the scene, but it's not enough to etch anyone's features into memory.

Stepping through the door, I hesitate, mentally kicking myself. We've talked about poor decision-making, Tori. So why do you keep doing this?

I lectured myself the whole, overpriced Uber ride here about the obvious dangers. Yet here I am, dressed in my usual go-to: khaki cargo pants, plaid shirt tied around my waist, and a cropped white top that shows off my lower abdomen's muscles.

"I see you made it." Sadie appears like a shadow, her voice sugary-sweet and just as artificial as the diamond glinting from her necklace. Her smile is the kind that belongs in a pageant- a little too wide, a little too practiced.

"I am standing here," I deadpan. Awkward, maybe, but what else do you say to that? She didn't exactly hand me a conversational gem.

Sadie's laugh is a high, tinkling sound that grates more than it charms. "I know I invited you, but I didn't think you'd actually show." She tilts her head, her tone dripping with condescension. "You know, considering your...history."

Ah, there it is. The subtle jab disguised as concern. I should let it roll off, but it clings, digging in like burrs. Everyone knows what the Iron Triad did to me in high school. Everyone knows I shouldn't be here.

"Guess I just wanted to see if your parties still flop as hard as they did in high school," I fire back, flashing her a sharp smile. Her laughter falters, but she quickly recovers, brushing a manicured nail along the strap of her dress.

Her eyes narrow as she leans in, her voice dipping. "You're brave, I'll give you that. Coming here, facing them- it's like watching a moth fly straight into the flame. Some of us just can't resist self destruction."

The dig stings, but instead of flinching, I let it fuel me. My smile grows colder, my words sharper. "You're right- I do tend to fly toward dangerous things. But let's be clear, Sadie: you're not the flame. You're just the pile of ash left behind when the real fire burns out."

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