Chapter Two
927 Words
Some secrets are meant to stay buried—but what happens when the wrong girl uncovers the truth?
⸻
Fifth period was gym.
And in Willow Ridge High, gym wasn't about physical fitness—it was a runway of reputations. A parade of who had the latest Lululemon, who could stretch and flirt without breaking a sweat, who looked effortlessly perfect in motion.
Me? I just wanted to survive the hour without being dissected by stares.
The second I walked into the locker room, the temperature dropped. Coach barely glanced up from her clipboard, but her voice cut clean through the noise.
"You're the new girl, yeah? Don't stand around. Pick a partner." Right. Just like that.
As if partners weren't claimed months ago, sealed with secrets and glitter lip gloss. As if I hadn't walked into a game that started long before I knew the rules.
Everyone already belonged to someone.
And me? I belonged nowhere.
I hovered near the edge, hugging the wall like it owed me protection. Trying to disappear into the concrete.
Then I heard him.
Smooth. Deep. Dangerous.
"Guess I'm stuck with the silent one."
I didn't need to look up.
I already knew that voice.
Reed Carter.
Smirking. Arrogant. Still carrying that storm-in-human-form energy like it was stitched into his DNA.
I tugged at the lace on my sneaker, focusing anywhere but on him. "Bad luck for you."
He chuckled, low and effortless. "Don't flatter yourself. Maybe I like a challenge."
I stood, slowly. Met his gaze like it didn't shake me. "Then go fight a bear."
That made him laugh for real this time. A laugh that came from his chest and curled in the air like cigarette smoke. It shouldn't have sounded beautiful—but it did.
"Relax, Peteman. I don't bite," he murmured, stepping just a little closer. "Unless you ask nicely."
I didn't flinch. That's what he wanted. And I'd learned the hard way—men like him fed on reactions. They sank their teeth into girls who blinked too fast or looked away too soon.
"You talk too much," I said, arms crossing over my chest, spine steel-straight. " Nobody likes guys who talk like kids."
He tilted his head like I'd intrigued him. Like he couldn't decide if I was a threat or a mystery. "And you don't talk enough. Starting to think you're hiding something."
I narrowed my eyes. "A personality, maybe. Or the fact that I'm a killer."
He smiled—slow and lethal. The kind of smile that promised more than it ever gave.
The kind that meant danger.
I turned on my heel and walked off before I could feel his smile burn into my back.
The rest of class blurred into drills, sprints, and Reed throwing looks at me like I was a cipher waiting to be cracked. Like he wanted to break me open and see what spilled out—fear or fire.
When the final whistle blew, I bolted.
Said I left something. Lied.
Because I had.
My journal.
Not a school notebook. Not homework.
My journal. My heart on paper. The only place I told the truth. It held every thought I couldn't say out loud. Every name I shouldn't remember. Every part of me I was trying to keep buried.
I rushed back to the locker room and found it stuffed in the bottom of my locker, right where I'd left it.
But when I stepped back into the hallway, the building had shifted. The sun had dipped low enough to stain the gym windows gold, casting everything in slow, liquid light. It was quiet. Too quiet. That kind of stillness that comes right before something breaks.
Then I heard it.
A breath.
A gasp.
A moan.
I stopped cold.
The sound came from behind the gym. Beneath the bleachers.
Somewhere dark. Private. Secret.
I should've left.
I should've turned and run.
But my body moved like it had a mind of its own.
Curious. Cursed. Compelled.
The door creaked open, and I peered through the c***k—
And the world tilted sideways.
Reed Carter.
And Skylar Monroe.
Skylar Monroe? That was his best friend's girlfriend. Willow Ridge royalty. Legs for days. A smile carved by privilege and filtered to perfection. The same Skylar who looked at girls like me like we were dirt under her designer shoes.
She was backed up against the wall, skirt hiked, lips pressed to his throat like she was trying to drink his soul.
And he—he was gripping her waist like possession wasn't a crime.
I stepped back, bile rising to my throat, my hands shaking.
No. No. No.
But fate?
Fate's a vindictive little witch.
Because that's when it happened.
My phone buzzed.
Loud.
Jarring.
Stupidly unforgiving.
Skylar gasped, tearing herself away from him like my ringtone had slapped her across the face. Her eyes widened—guilt, fear, shame all colliding at once.
But Reed?
Reed didn't flinch.
He didn't look scared.
He didn't even blink.
He turned... and smiled.
Like I was right where he wanted me.
Like I'd just played directly into his hand.
That smile wasn't one of guilt. It wasn't even apology.
It was amusement. Calculated amusement actually.
He saw me and I saw everything. I saw a little too much to lie that I had just walked in then.
Then i realized that I wasn't just the new girl anymore.
I was a witness. A liability.
A problem he was going to fix.
And Reed Carter?
He doesn't leave problems unsolved.
- Writer
