Chapter 5 Mean Girls and Battlegrounds 

Priya wasn't at school on Monday. But she had texted me that morning about family emergency, nothing serious, back tomorrow but standing in the hallway alone, watching students stream past, I felt her absence like a missing limb.

I could feel the shift. The way people looked at me had changed over the weekend. More whispers and stares like I'd gone from invisible to visible in the worst possible way.

I made it through first period. Through second. I kept my head down, took notes. Then I walked into AP Literature.

Amber Liu was waiting. She sat on top of my desk surrounded by three of her friends, all of them dressed like they'd coordinated their outfits that morning. Amber's long dark hair was perfectly curled, her makeup flawless, her smile sharp as a knife.

I stopped in the doorway.

"Oh, look," Amber said sweetly, loud enough for the entire room to hear. "It's the babysitter."

Her friends giggled. A few other people looked up, suddenly interested.

I forced myself to walk forward. "That's my desk."

"Is it?" Amber looked down, feigning surprise. "Oops. My bad."

She didn't move.

I stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder, trying to decide if this was worth the fight.

Amber tilted her head, studying me like I was a bug under a microscope. "You know, Zara, I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Great. Can you do it while not sitting on my desk?"

Her smile widened. "This'll only take a minute."

She stood slowly, deliberately and stepped directly into my space. Close enough that I could smell her perfume, enough that everyone in the room was definitely watching now.

"I heard you've been spending a lot of time at the Hendricks house," she said, voice saccharine. "With Chase."

My stomach tightened. "I'm babysitting his little brother. That's it."

"Mm. That's what I thought too. But then I heard some... interesting things."

"Like what?"

"Like you stayed late last week. Like you and Chase were alone together." She paused, letting the implication hang in the air. "People talk, Zara."

"Let them talk."

"Oh, I will." Her smile turned razor-sharp. "But first, I wanted to give you some friendly advice."

"I don't need—"

"Stay away from Chase." Each word was punctuated, deliberate. "He's mine. We've been together for two years. Just because you're playing house with his little brother doesn't mean you get to play with him."

Heat flooded my face. "I'm not—"

"I don't care what you think you're doing." Amber leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. "But you need to know your place. You're the help, Zara. You don't get to cross that line."

Something inside me snapped.

"First of all," I said, voice low and steady, "I'm not trying to cross any line. I'm doing a job and that's it."

"Good. Then we understand each other."

"Second," I continued, "if Chase is yours, maybe you should be having this conversation with him instead of me. Because last I checked, I'm not the one in a relationship."

Amber's eyes flashed. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." I stepped forward, closing the distance she'd created. "If you're so worried about Chase, maybe you should actually talk to him instead of bullying the girl who watches his brother."

"I am not bullying you—"

"Yes, you are. And honestly? It's pathetic." I shouldered past her, dropping my bag onto my desk. "Now get out of my space."

For one long, breathless second, Amber just stared at me.

Then she laughed—high, brittle, furious.

"You have no idea what you just did," she said.

"I stood up for myself. Crazy concept, I know."

Her expression darkened. "You're going to regret this."

"Maybe. But at least I won't regret being a coward."

Amber's face went red. Her friends shifted uncomfortably. And then, without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked to the back of the classroom, her entourage trailing behind her.

The room was dead silent.

I sat down, pulled out my notebook, and tried to ignore the fact that my hands were shaking. and the fact that I'd just declared war on the most popular girl in school.

The rest of class passed in agonizing silence. Mrs. Richardson lectured about symbolism in Wuthering Heights, and I took notes on autopilot, hyperaware of Amber's glare burning into the back of my head.

When the bell rang, I packed up quickly, ready to escape.

"Zara."

I looked up.

Chase stood in the doorway, expression unreadable.

My stomach dropped. "What is it again?"

"Can we talk?"

"We already did that. Remember? The part where you told me to stay in my lane?"

His jaw tightened. "That's not what I—"

"I have to get to class." I pushed past him into the hallway.

He followed. "Zara, wait—"

"What, Chase?" I spun around, not caring who was watching. "What do you possibly have to say to me right now?"

"Amber cornered you."

"Yeah. She did. Thanks for the heads-up, by the way."

"I didn't know she was going to—"

"Didn't you?" I crossed my arms. "You're the one who told everyone we're 'just professional.' You're the one who made sure I knew my place. So forgive me if I don't believe you're surprised your girlfriend decided to put me in mine."

Chase flinched. "She's not my girlfriend."

"She seems to think she is."

"We broke up two weeks ago."

I stopped. "What?"

"We broke up," he repeated. "I ended it. But she—she's having a hard time accepting it."

"Well, she just spent ten minutes telling me to stay away from you because you're hers, so maybe you should make that a little clearer."

"I'm trying—"

"Try harder." I turned to leave.

"Zara, please—"

"I'm done, Chase." I looked back at him, exhausted. "I'm done with the hot and cold. I'm done with you pushing me away and then acting surprised when people treat me like I'm nothing. If you want to fix this, fix it with Amber. Not me."

I walked away before he could respond.

And this time, he didn't follow.

By lunchtime, the rumor mill was in full swing.

Apparently, my confrontation with Amber had been witnessed by half the class, and now everyone had an opinion.

Some people thought I was brave. Most people thought I was insane.

I sat alone at my usual table Priya's empty seat a glaring reminder that I was on my own today—and tried to eat while ignoring the whispers.

"She actually told Amber off."

"I can't believe she—"

"She's got guts, I'll give her that."

"Yeah, but she's dead. Amber's going to destroy her."

I stabbed my fork into my sandwich and wished I could disappear.

Then someone sat down across from me. I looked up, expecting Priya but it was Chase.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

"Sitting."

"People are staring."

"Let them." He unwrapped his sandwich, completely unbothered. "I talked to Amber."

I blinked. "You—what?"

"I told her to back off. That you're just doing your job and she had no right to go after you."

"Chase—"

"I also told her we're done. For real this time. No more ambiguity." He looked up, meeting my eyes. "I should've done that weeks ago. I'm sorry."

I didn't know what to say.

"I know I've been an asshole," he continued. "I know I keep pushing you away and then pulling you back. But I'm trying. I'm—" He exhaled. "I'm not good at this. At being honest. At letting people in."

"Yeah. I noticed."

A ghost of a smile. "I don't expect you to forgive me. But I wanted you to know that what Amber said—that's not how I see you. You're not 'the help.' You're—" He stopped. Swallowed. "You're important.

My chest tightened.

"Okay," I said quietly.

"Okay?"

"Okay." I picked up my sandwich, took a bite, and tried to ignore the fact that my heart was doing backflips. "Now eat your lunch before people start writing fanfiction about this."

Chase laughed, a real, genuine laugh and just like that, the tension broke.

We ate in silence, and for the first time in days, it didn't feel heavy.

It felt like maybe we were finding our footing.