Whispered Temptations

Chapter One

「 ✦ Halsey's POV ✦ 」

When I was eight, I drew people without faces.

Mom noticed before anyone else.

"Where are their eyes?" she asked, kneeling beside me at the kitchen table.

I studied the family I had drawn in purple crayon. Five figures stood beneath a crooked yellow sun, their hands linked together. Mom had cloudlike hair. Dad was twice everyone else's size. Halo wore a crown, and Hazel was little more than a pink bundle in Mom's arms.

"They don't need faces," I told her. "I know they love me."

Back then, I believed love was something you could recognize without seeing it.

At seventeen, I learned that faceless people were the easiest ones to trust.

✦─────────────────✦

Tyler: Come backstage after the last dance.

Tyler Henderson's message glowed on my phone.

My pulse fluttered as I read it again.

Me: Why?

Three dots appeared.

Tyler: It's a surprise, Hals.

No one outside my family called me Hals.

Halo had used it first. Hazel copied her as soon as she learned to talk. Hearing the name from Tyler had felt intimate, like I had invited him into a part of me closed to everyone else.

Standing beneath the silver streamers decorating the school gym, I pressed my phone to my chest and tried not to smile.

"What did he say?" Annabelle asked.

I locked the screen. "Nothing."

Her glossy lips curved. "You're blushing over nothing?"

She had barely spoken to me since elementary school. Yet three weeks ago, she had begun sitting beside me in English and asking careful questions about Tyler.

Did I like him?

Had he kissed me?

Were we coming to the winter formal together?

I should have wondered why she cared.

Instead, I had been grateful someone did.

"He wants me to meet him backstage," I admitted.

Annabelle's eyes brightened. "Maybe tonight is finally your night."

Finally.

As if everyone had been waiting for something good to happen to me.

Across the gym, Tyler stood with his teammates near the bleachers. The top buttons of his white shirt were open, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. When he caught me looking, he smiled.

Carly Johannson leaned close and whispered something in his ear.

They laughed.

My smile faltered.

Tyler immediately glanced at his phone.

Tyler: Ignore her.

A second message followed.

Tyler: You look beautiful.

I wanted to believe him.

So I did.

Mom had pinned back my long brown hair instead of letting me hide behind it. Halo had helped me choose the emerald dress over video chat because it brought out what Dad called the jade in my eyes. I had traded my oversized black frames for contacts, leaving every part of my face exposed.

The dress hugged more of my body than I liked, but Halo had made me promise not to cover it with a cardigan.

"You don't have to become invisible just because some people refuse to see you properly."

For once, I had listened.

The music faded just before eleven.

Our student council president climbed onto the stage and tapped the microphone. "Before the last dance, we have a special winter-formal surprise."

The projector screen descended behind her.

Whispers rippled through the gym.

Annabelle touched my elbow. "You should get closer."

"Why?"

"So you can see."

Before I could question her, the screen lit up.

A screenshot appeared.

At first, I only noticed the pale blue message bubbles.

Then I recognized the words.

Sometimes I think being loved by my family used up all the love I was supposed to get.

My stomach dropped.

That was mine.

I had sent it to Tyler at two in the morning after he found me crying in the library. He had promised he would never show anyone.

The screenshot changed.

I know it sounds stupid, but when you look at me, I don't feel ugly.

Laughter spread through the gym.

Not everyone joined in. Some people shifted uncomfortably. Others lifted their phones.

But enough laughed.

More than enough.

I turned toward Tyler.

He wasn't smiling anymore.

Carly was.

The next image appeared.

A photograph of the letter I had written for English class.

The assignment had been simple: write something honest that you would never say aloud. Tyler had asked to read mine. When I refused, he told me he had written his about me.

So I sent him a picture.

Now my handwriting filled the screen behind the stage.

A distorted, childish voice came through the speakers.

"I think I started falling for you the first time you chose the seat beside mine when every other chair was empty."

The crowd erupted.

My breath disappeared.

"You make me wonder what it would feel like to be wanted instead of tolerated."

On the screen, someone had placed my letter beside a photograph of me eating alone in the cafeteria. A cartoon pig wearing a crown had been drawn over my head.

Words flashed beneath it:

THE BEAST THINKS SHE FOUND HER PRINCE.

My childhood drawings had shown people reaching for me.

Now hundreds of hands rose around me, each holding a phone.

Recording.

Preserving.

Making sure this moment would outlive me.

"Tyler," I whispered.

He looked at Carly.

That was all the answer I needed.

I crossed the gym before I realized I was moving. People parted to let me through, though some kept their cameras trained on my face.

"Did you send her my letter?"

Tyler swallowed. "Halsey, listen to me."

"Did you?"

"It wasn't supposed to be this."

Carly laughed. "Don't act surprised, Meadows."

I turned on her. "Why?"

Her smile sharpened.

"Because you needed to learn that embarrassing someone in front of an entire class doesn't make you better than them."

The memory returned immediately.

Two months earlier, Carly had presented someone else's essay as her own during a class debate. When our teacher praised her, I pointed out that entire sections had been copied from an article online.

The investigation cost Carly the Weston Scholarship.

She blamed me, even though the award had been based on grades and financial need, and Carly's family owned three homes.

"You did all this because I told the truth?"

"You humiliated me."

"So you had him pretend to like me?"

Carly's expression told me how obvious she thought the answer should be.

My gaze returned to Tyler.

He had messaged me every night for seven weeks.

He knew Dad had driven three hours to buy my favorite armchair because it matched my eyes. He knew Mom smelled like cinnamon, vanilla, and dark-roast coffee. He knew Halo left heart-shaped notes on my mirror and Hazel sang outside my door when I couldn't get out of bed.

He knew which words would make me trust him because I had handed him every weapon myself.

"Was any of it real?"

His jaw tightened. "At first, it was only supposed to be a few messages."

"Then what?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

Behind us, the artificial voice continued reading my letter.

"If you asked me to believe you wanted me, I think I would."

Tyler closed his eyes.

Carly stepped beside him. "He won, Halsey. That's what happened."

A new slide appeared.

It showed a group chat titled Beauty and the Bet.

At the top was Carly's challenge:

First one to make Meadows say she's in love wins $500. Proof required.

Below it was Tyler's reply.

Easy money.

The date was from seven weeks ago.

Before the library.

Before the late-night calls.

Before he appeared at my house with a white rose and promised my father he would bring me home safely.

The entire relationship had begun with a price attached.

Five hundred dollars.

That was what my humiliation was worth.

Annabelle stepped close enough for her perfume to curl around me.

"Smile, Halsey."

Her phone was inches from my face.

I slapped it from her hand.

It struck the polished floor with a crack.

The gym fell silent.

"You psycho b***h!" she shouted.

"You wanted a reaction." My voice sounded distant. "Now you have one."

I pushed past her and climbed onto the stage.

Someone called my name, but I didn't stop. I tore the cable from the projector. The screen went black, cutting off the artificial voice in the middle of my confession.

For one breathless moment, I stood beneath the stage lights and faced them all.

Every cruel smile.

Every open mouth.

Every phone held high.

For once, every face was painfully clear.

I wished it wasn't.

Cruelty was easier to survive when it didn't have a face.

Then I ran.