CHAPTER 4
780 Words
The lockeroom stank of hairspray, cocoa butter, and body mists. Laughter bounced off the tiled walls from different girl groups, some small, some big. Avery peeled off her hoodie and shoved it into the rusting locker beside Lola’s.
Lola was already halfway into her gym top; her bra strap tangled around her elbow as she tried to multitask with lip gloss.
“You look like hell,” she said.
Avery rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”
“I mean it in a friendly way. Like, ‘Hey, bestie, your under-eye bags are giving Chanel.”
Avery smirked. Just barely. “I didn’t sleep.”
“Because of Jaxon Creed’s stupid 98.3% again?”
“No,” Avery muttered, tying her laces too tight. “Because of my life.”
Lola clicked her tongue, applying gloss like she was going to prom instead of gym class. “So... both.”
Avery didn’t respond.
The room was loud with small talk- who kissed who, who’s flunking chem, who got their nails done, who hooked up with who, who got noticed by Jaxon. And even with all that noise, Avery felt invisible. Until she caught her own reflection in the long locker mirror and wondered how she looked so much like a ghost.
“You, okay?” Lola asked softer.
“I’m fine.”
Avery didn’t believe it either.
….
The gym was brutal. Too bright. Too big. Too many people acting like gym didn’t count, like their lives weren’t hanging on scholarships, like failing PE wouldn’t be the difference between college and working a third job at night.
Avery pushed her shoulders back. Her chest burned. Her head throbbed. Her legs ached. But she ran the laps.
On the third lap, Jaxon cut the corner.
Again.
His friends cheered. Laughed. One of the girls even said, “He looks so hot.”
Avery didn’t say anything.
“Dodgeball today,” Coach yelled.
Lola groaned. “Ugh, my hair.”
“Better than climbing the rope,” Avery muttered.
They lined up. The class was co-ed, which meant Jaxon and his crew were there too; laughing like the world owed them joy. y. Jaxon Creed stood near the back of the court, spinning a red dodgeball in one hand.
He looked like a magazine cover. Tousled dark hair. That lazy grin. No effort. All reward.
Avery tried not to look. Failed.
They started playing.
Avery dodged one ball, caught another, let it fly. Her legs ached already. Her eyes burned. Her chest felt like a collapsed lung. But she kept going because what else was there?
Avery wiped the sweat from her forehead, gripping the rubber ball tight. Her chest rose and fell in short, angry breaths. Her knees were already aching from lack of sleep. She wanted to be anywhere else.
Then it happened.
The ball. Thrown hard. Fast. Unchecked.
Smacked her right in the jaw.
Her head snapped sideways. Her knees buckled.
She stumbled back, hand flying to her face. The gym went quiet.
Everyone froze.
Avery stood there, holding her face. Her eyes stung with tears she hadn’t agreed to. Her lips were bleeding a little. She tasted it, iron and shame.
“Damn,” someone muttered from across the gym. “Creed’s got an arm.”
Laughter.
Not everyone laughed. But enough of them did.
And that was it. That was it. She had enough.
Avery stepped forward, teeth gritted, heart pounding in her chest like a war drum.
“f**k YOU, JAXON.”
It came out louder than she expected. Too loud. His name echoed. It bounced off the walls. Sank into silence.
The entire gym turned.
Even the coach looked up.
Avery was breathing like she’d run a marathon. She wasn’t sure if it was pain or shame or exhaustion, or all three clawing at her throat, but her hands shook.
Jaxon blinked , stunned. “It was an accident- “
“Sure it was.” Avery said sarcastically.
She could feel the stares. The whispers.
She didn’t belong in this scene. She was the side character who suddenly stole the spotlight. And now, under the weight of everyone’s attention, she felt naked.
Like her skin had been peeled back.
Hot tears spilled from her eyes, uninvited. Unexplained.
Maybe it was the hit. Maybe it was the laughter.
Maybe it was years of being invisible, and now, when she was finally noticed, it was for this.
A breakdown. A scene. A moment.
She turned.
And then she ran.
She didn’t know where her legs were carrying her. She didn’t care. She didn’t stop to grab her bag, or answer Lola’s voice calling her name.
She just ran.
- Writer
