The Invitation

Chapter 3

I didn’t remember falling asleep. One moment I was on my bed, hair tangled, face sticky with dried tears, and the next, I was waking to the soft sound of voices outside her door.

Whispers.

At first, I thought that I was dreaming again. But then I heard it clearly Mara’s voice, sharp and hushed.

“She hasn’t eaten since morning. Maybe you should check on her again.”

I rubbed my eyes and stood, padding toward the door. When she opened it, Alex was still there, seated on the living room couch, his head resting against the wall like he’d been keeping watch. Mara and Janelle stood near the doorway, guilt and worry written across their faces.

I blinked, voice groggy but edged. “What are they doing here?”

Alex straightened immediately, trying to speak, but Mara beat him to it.

“We’re not leaving, Lucia. You’re not throwing away years of friendship because of Leora’s mistake.”

I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Leora’s mistake?”

Janelle stepped forward, hands raised. “We didn’t even know, okay? We just… we were there at the party. We saw a crowd forming near the pool, and when we checked, it was—” she swallowed hard “it was them. Damien and Leora.”

My breath hitched.

“They were…” Mara hesitated, glancing at Janelle for support. “…They were all over each other, Lucia. Like, really over each other. People were already recording.”

My face went blank, my voice flat. “You mean, confirming what everyone’s been whispering?”

Janelle’s tone softened. “We tried to pull her off him. We thought maybe she was drunk or something, but the way she looked at us… it wasn’t random, Lucia. It wasn’t a one-time thing. It looked like it had been going on for a while.”

Those words struck deeper than I expected like someone twisting the knife that had already been buried in my chest.

I slowly backed away, my throat closing up. “You should go.”

Mara frowned. “Lucia—”

“I said go!” I snapped, voice cracking. “Please. Just… go.”

Alex looked torn, but one look from Lucia and he understood. He stood, giving a quiet nod to Mara and Janelle. They left hesitantly, the air thick with what none of them could fix.

When the door finally closed, I pressed my forehead against it and whispered, “If only I hadn’t helped her pick that dress.”

⸻

The following days blurred together. I stayed home, ignoring calls, ignoring my mother’s concerned voice drifting through the door.

“Lucia, are you sick?”

“ Do you need me to call a doctor”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong? Should I call Leora to come stay with you?”

That made me snap upright. “Don’t!” I yelled through the door, and my mother froze on the other side.

My father came later, knocking gently. “Sweetheart, talk to us.”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

But I wasn’t.

I deleted all their chats ; Leora’s, Damien’s.

Every message that reminded me that I was the last to know in my own story.

After a week, I finally forced myself to return to school. The stares were still there. Softer now, but still pitying. People whispered when I passed. I walked faster, trying to look unaffected.

When I reached my locker, my hand froze.

Damien was there, leaning against it.

“Lucia,” he said quickly. “We need to talk.”

I didn’t even look at him. “Move.”

He stepped closer, desperation flickering in his eyes. “Please, just listen—”

“I have nothing to say to a lying piece of—”

Before I could finish, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist a little too roughly. “Lucia, stop! You don’t understand what happened!”

“Let go of me!” I hissed, but he was already pulling me towards the janitor’s closet nearby.

Inside, the smell of dust and cleaning supplies filled the silence.

The janitor’s closet door slammed shut behind them.

I could barely breathe the air was thick with disinfectant and betrayal.

Damien ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight, tone clipped.

“Lucia, can you not make this a big deal?”

My eyes widened in disbelief. “A big deal? You humiliated me in front of half the school!”

He sighed, eyes rolling like she was the one being dramatic. “You’re always so emotional. You don’t get it, Lucia. You’re… you’re not easy to be with.”

I blinked, unsure I heard him right. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged, leaning against a shelf like he wasn’t the one who’d destroyed everything. “You’re quiet. Always hiding in your room, reading or sketching or whatever it is you do. You don’t like going out, don’t like parties. You just… stay home. Why would I want a girl who doesn’t even like to live?”

Her breath caught. It wasn’t just what he said it was how easily it left his mouth.

My chest tightened as his words sank deeper. Maybe this was it. Maybe Leora was everything she wasn’t.

Leora had golden brown curls that bounced when she laughed, skin that glowed like the sun loved her more, eyes that could swallow any boy whole. The kind of girl who filled a room without trying.

And Damien… tall, careless grin, the school’s golden boy, captain of the basketball team, charm wrapped in arrogance. Every girl wanted him but he’d chosen her. And now, it felt like he was unchoosing her, one cruel word at a time.

“You knew who I was before we started dating,” I said quietly, my voice trembling.

“Yeah,” he admitted, eyes hard. “I thought I could change you.”

I laughed bitterly, the sound cracked and sharp. “Change me? Into what, Damien? Leora?”

He didn’t flinch. “Leora knows how to have fun. She doesn’t act like the world’s ending because I texted someone.”

I fought the tears burning behind her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

He stepped closer, voice lowering—not apologetic, just arrogant. “Look, I’m a man, Lucia. I have needs. You kept saying you wanted to ‘wait,’ and that’s fine, but what did you expect me to do? Just sit around forever?”

The tears finally fell, sliding down my cheeks. “I was keeping myself for the person who was worth it,” she whispered. “I thought that was you.”

He scoffed. “Maybe I was wrong about that too. Maybe you’re not as innocent as you act. Who knows—maybe you’re sleeping with everyone and lying to me about it.”

The slap came before I even realized my hand had moved.

The sound echoed sharply against the tiled walls.

My palm stung. His cheek turned red.

My voice shook with rage. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t get to touch me, blame me, or drag my name through the mud because you can’t control yourself.”

He glared at her, eyes dark. “You’re acting like a saint, Lucia. Don’t forget who you were with before me—”

“Get out,” she snapped.

But she was the one who left.

She threw the door open and stormed into the hallway, her heart hammering so hard she could barely hear. The fluorescent lights blurred above her. Her legs trembled, but she didn’t stop until she reached the edge of the school courtyard.

She didn’t even realize Mara and Janelle were standing there until she nearly collided into them.

“Lucia—” Mara started, eyes wide.

I stopped, breathing heavily. For a moment, none of them spoke. Then she exhaled shakily, her voice small but sincere.

“I’m sorry… for yelling at you both. I was just… angry. And hurt. And then you came, and it felt like the ground was falling under me again.”

Janelle reached out, touching her arm gently. “No, Lucia. We’re the ones who should be sorry. We should’ve told you sooner. We were scared you’d break, and maybe we made it worse.”

I shook her head. “You didn’t make it worse. They did.”

Mara’s eyes softened, guilt swimming in them. “We love you, Lu. We were just trying to protect you. We didn’t want to believe it either.”

I let out a weak laugh that wasn’t really laughter. “If only protection worked like that.”

Mara smiled sadly. “You don’t have to forgive us right now. Just… don’t shut us out again, okay?”

I nodded slowly. “Okay.”

They stood there for a moment three girls who’d been through too much for one week, bound together again by truth, hurt, and a promise to stay.

As Mara spoke, I found myself staring at them really staring.

Mara, with her dark auburn hair always in a bun too tight for her own comfort, eyes sharp enough to cut glass but soft when she cared. Janelle, all honey skin and easy laughter, the glue that always held them together when things fell apart.

And Alex… steady, calm, the kind of person who didn’t need words to make you feel seen.

They’d met during first year all awkward schedules and shared library tables and somehow they’d built something that felt like home. Until Leora and Damien turned that home inside out.

But deep down, I knew something had cracked permanently.

Trust, innocence, maybe even a part of herself.

And as she walked away that evening, the wind brushed cold against her skin, carrying whispers she couldn’t quite make out.