22 : The Reveal
544 Words
By Monday morning, I knew something was coming.
Chelsea had been circling like a shark all weekend. Her smirks, her pointed stares, her cryptic texts—they all built toward something bigger. I could feel it, the way you feel thunder rumbling before a storm breaks.
When I walked into school, the halls were humming with an unusual energy. People whispered more than usual, their eyes darting between phones and each other.
Something was already in motion.
⸻
The first sign came in second period. My phone buzzed under my desk, and I didn’t need to check to know who it was.
Check your feed, Princess.
My stomach dropped.
I opened i********:, and there it was.
The photo.
Not the worst one—not the kiss, not even the full intimacy of what we shared—but damning enough. Jason and I on the porch, sitting too close, our hands brushing in a way that screamed intimacy.
Captioned with just three words: Step-sibling scandal.
My blood ran cold.
The whispers around me grew louder, some students laughing, others gasping, a few even snapping more pictures of the post to spread it further. My throat closed, panic clawing at me.
I wanted to vanish.
⸻
By lunch, everyone knew. I felt the weight of every stare as I walked into the cafeteria, my tray shaking in my hands.
Jason was already there, sitting with his team. When our eyes met across the room, his jaw clenched, his fist tightening around his soda can until it crumpled.
He stood abruptly, ignoring the murmurs from his friends, and crossed the room to me.
“Outside. Now.”
I followed him numbly, my heart hammering so loud I could barely hear anything else.
Once we reached the empty courtyard, he spun toward me, his eyes blazing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tears stung my eyes. “I—I couldn’t. She—”
“Chelsea,” he growled, his voice like fire.
I nodded miserably. “She’s been blackmailing me. If I didn’t stay away from you, she threatened to post it.”
His chest rose and fell with fury. “And you let her control you like that? You thought I wouldn’t fight for you?”
“I was trying to protect you!” I cried, my voice breaking. “If this got out, if people knew—”
He cut me off, his voice sharp and raw. “They already know, Liv. And guess what? I don’t care.”
I froze, staring at him.
“I don’t care what they say. I don’t care if they whisper, if they laugh, if they turn this into some twisted joke. I care about you.” His voice dropped, his eyes burning into mine. “And I’m done letting Chelsea or anyone else decide what we are.”
The tears spilled over then, hot and uncontrollable. “Jason—”
But before I could say more, he pulled me close, his forehead pressing against mine, his voice fierce in the silence.
“From now on, we fight together.”
⸻
Later that night, another message buzzed on my phone.
Cute speech. But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Chelsea wasn’t finished.
But neither were we.
- Writer
