Falling Offside.

Chapter 4 EVERYONE IS WATCHING.

By the time I got home, I already knew that the whole school was talking about it, I didn't need social media to tell me that. I could feel the stares and whispers and how conversations stopped whenever I walked past. I've lived in Ashbourne long enough to know how this worked. How this small town treated gossip like an Olympic sport. And today? I was the main event.

I dropped my backpack beside my bed and collapsed on the mattress, immediately regretting every decision I made in the last twenty-four hours. Most especially the part where I publicly challenged the most popular guy in school in front of over six hundred people.

"Smooth, Isla." I groaned and buried my head in the pillow. I looked up the ceiling waiting for a response but got none. Surely even it knew I messed up. My phone buzzed. I sighed and picked it up. Mom.

“How was your first day?”

I stared at the message, and then typed:

“Nobody died.”

“That's not exactly reassuring.” she replied a few seconds later and a reluctant, tired smile pulled at my lips.

“I'll tell you later.”

“Love you.”

The words made something tighten in my chest and I typed back before I could overthink it.

“Love you too.”

Then I tossed my phone onto the bed and stayed in silence. Five seconds later it buzzed again. I picked up wondering why mom still texted and I frowned. Unknown Number.

Ughhh…of course. This was becoming a tiring game already. Slowly, I opened the message.

“People are starting to ask questions.”

I sat up immediately before the other message arrived.

“That's good.”

The cold feeling returned instantly.

Whoever this person was… wasn't just watching me. They were watching everything.

The next morning was worse that I seriously considered faking an illness, something enough to stay home. Maybe a mild fever, or a mysterious stomach bug or temporary amnesia.

Just anything to keep me away from school. Unfortunately, Mom had spent sixteen years learning when I was lying because when I appeared in the kitchen looking miserable, she didn't even glance up from her coffee.

"No."

I frowned.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were about to."

"That's not the point."

"It is when I already know the argument."

I dropped into the chair opposite her.

"This school hates me."

Mom took a sip of coffee.

"The school doesn't hate you."

"The students do."

"No, they don't."

I stared at her and she stared back. Then she added, "They're just teenagers."

"That's somehow worse."

Mom laughed but I didn't because unfortunately, I was serious.

The second I stepped into school, students stared openly now, not even pretending to hide. A group of freshmen glanced at me before immediately looking away, two girls whispered near their lockers and one guy actually pointed. Nice. Really nice. I intensified my pace.

Sophie found me before first period.

"You went viral."

I stopped.

"I'm sorry, what?"

She held up her phone and I felt tired all over again. There I was, standing in the gym and looking furious. Mason was standing on stage and the caption read:

SKATING GIRL CALLS OUT HOCKEY CAPTAIN IN FRONT OF ENTIRE SCHOOL.

“Twenty-seven thousand views.” I almost screamed in shock. I wanted to disappear immediately.

"Tell me that's fake."

"It is not."

I groaned and Sophie smirked.

"Yeah. That was my reaction too."

"This town needs hobbies."

"It has hobbies."

"What?"

"Gossiping."

Fair point. I almost laughed but it didn’t move past my throat. By lunch, things somehow got worse because that's when I found the article. Someone had posted it anonymously and sent a link across every student group chat in school.

A link titled:

THE ACCIDENT THAT ENDED ASHBOURNE'S SKATING STAR'S CAREER.

My chest tightened. No. No. No… but I clicked it anyway and regretted. The article was two years old and I remembered it like yesterday. Everyone in town probably did. There was even a photo of me on the ice being loaded into an ambulance. The article wasn't long, it didn't need to because the comments underneath were much worse. Some blamed Mason, some defended him. Others argued, speculated and invented stories turning the worst night of my life into entertainment. I turned my phone screen down but it was too late. The damage was already done.

When I entered History, the room felt different. People stopped talking, like actually stopped which was supposed to cause relief but a second later, every head turned that I wanted the floor to open and swallow me whole. Instead, I mustered courage and walked to my seat, pretending not to notice or care or even hear them.

"That's her."

"I heard she blamed Mason."

"I heard Mason almost quit hockey after the accident."

"No way."

"That's what my brother said."

I froze and my fingers tightened around my notebook. Almost quit? Why? The questions lingered and before I could think about it further, someone dropped into the empty seat beside me. Sophie.

“Thank God.” I sighed in relief like she was here to save me from drowning in my thoughts.

She looked around the room and rolled her eyes.

"Lost a fight with a bear?"

"What?"

"Everybody keeps staring at you."

"I noticed."

"They stare at me too."

I blinked.

"They do?"

"No."

I narrowed my eyes and she grinned.

"Just trying to make you feel better."

"You're terrible at it."

"I know."

The final bell rang and everyone poured into the hallways. I was halfway to my locker when I noticed something.

A small crowd gathered around the noticeboard whispering, pointing and watching. I pushed closer but cautious because crowds meant trouble.

Pinned to the board was a newspaper clip of the article but someone had circled a sentence in red marker.

“No witnesses were able to confirm exactly what happened before the collision.”

My pulse quickened when I saw someone had written underneath it in messy black ink.

“That isn't true.”

The hallway seemed to shrink around me. A few seconds ago, it had just been another crowded school corridor but now it felt suffocating. The voices around me blurred and everything suddenly sounded too loud.

I stared at the words written beneath the article, unable to look away. Someone had known for two years and now, out of nowhere, they were leaving breadcrumbs for me to find. The anonymous texts, photograph, article, all of it felt deliberate.

I swallowed hard.