UNVEILING AURORA

I’M NOT OKAY

AURORA’S POV

I didn’t go to lunch that day.

After what happened in the hallway, the thought of stepping into the cafeteria—where Damien and Madison would be holding court like the king and queen of my personal hell—made my stomach turn.

Instead, I stayed in the bathroom stall, staring blankly at the stained fabric of my sweater.

My fingers twitched, itching to rip it off, to throw it away.

But it wouldn’t change anything.

The humiliation was already soaked into my skin, seeping into my bones.

I couldn’t hide forever, though.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, I forced myself to leave the stall, avoiding the mirror as I washed my hands.

If I looked up, if I saw my own reflection—the tired, defeated girl staring back—I might break.

And I couldn’t afford that.

Not here.

Not yet.

By the time I made it to my next class, the whispers had already spread.

I could feel the stares, the amused glances flicking in my direction, the smirks barely hidden behind hands as people pretended to cough and murmur.

My stomach clenched, but I kept my head down and shuffled to my seat in the back of the room.

I wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that Damien was in this class.

I used to love sitting next to him.

It had been the only part of my day I looked forward to—before I realized I was just another joke to him.

Now, I could barely stand to be near him.

I kept my eyes glued to my desk as he slid into his seat beside me.

He didn’t even glance my way.

Like I didn’t exist.

Like I never existed.

I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palm beneath my desk.

“Hey, man, did you see her face after?” one of Damien’s friends, Jordan, muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

“Thought she was gonna start bawling right then and there.”

Damien chuckled. “Didn’t stick around long enough to find out.”

“You should’ve seen the way she ran out of the cafeteria,” another voice added, barely stifling laughter.

“Like a goddamn movie scene. Someone cue the sad music.”

My breath hitched.

I wanted to sink into my chair, disappear into the floor.

“You really dodged a bullet, man,” Jordan continued. “I mean, dating that?”

I expected Damien to shut them down.

To say something.

He didn’t.

He just laughed along with them, like I wasn’t even sitting right there.

Like I wasn’t real.

I clenched my fists under my desk, nails biting into my palm so hard I was sure I’d leave marks.

I wouldn’t cry.

Not here.

Not for him.

The teacher started class, but I barely heard a word.

My head buzzed, a dull ringing in my ears as I fought to keep my face blank.

To pretend their words didn’t cut deep.

To pretend I was okay.

But I wasn’t.

And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if I ever would be.