SOPHIE
Tuesday morning, the hallway feels different, and not in a way I like.
It's not the usual invisible-girl static. It's worse—people actually looking at me now, then looking away fast when I catch them, like I'm something you're not supposed to stare at directly. A girl I've never spoken to in four years whispers to her friend the second I pass, not even bothering to wait until I'm out of earshot.
"That's her. The one who got Nathan Carter benched."
Like I did it to him. Like I reached into his life and yanked the captaincy off his jersey myself.
"Ignore it," Avery mutters, falling into step beside me. "You didn't do anything but tell the truth."
"I know that." I do know it. It just doesn't make the stares weigh less.
By the time I reach my locker, someone's already left a fold
