CHAPTER 7
1631 Words
Five against one.
Yeah, I was so f*****g screwed.
“Are you dating Thomas?” The question was sharp, hostile, and laced with pure venom.
“No.”
“Bullshit!”
“I already told you, I’m not dating Thomas. We’re just friends.”
“Oh yeah? Since when do ‘just friends’ write each other love poems?”
Fucking Thomas. This asshole had a talent for making my life harder every damn day. But standing here arguing with these girls was a waste of time. They didn’t care about the truth—they just wanted an excuse to rip me apart.
“I’m leaving.” I muttered and turned to walk away.
A hard shove sent me stumbling back.
“Where do you think you’re going? You actually believe Thomas wants you? Please. You’re nothing but a temporary f**k toy to him.”
I clenched my fists. “Oh, what? Jealous?”
Well. That was a dumb f*****g thing to say.
Their faces twisted with rage, eyes burning like they were about to pounce. I took a step back—s**t. I was cornered against the wall. No escape.
“That’s enough.”
The voice was deep, commanding, and it cut through the air like a goddamn blade.
Tyler.
The moment they saw him, their confidence shriveled.
“We were just talking,” one of them tried, her voice all fake sweetness now. Then, just like that, they turned and scurried off like cockroaches.
Tyler stepped closer, looking at me with concern. “Are you okay?”
The way he looked at me—so f*****g gentle—it made my stomach twist. He reached out, about to touch my arm.
I flinched.
And before I could stop myself, I slapped his hand away.
Fuck. My stupid, goddamn phobia.
“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered, horrified.
“It’s okay.” His voice was calm. “Breathe.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“What were you doing here?”
“I—uh—I…” f**k, I couldn’t talk. My chest was tight, my hands were shaking. I needed to get the hell out of here.
So I turned around and walked away.
I couldn’t deal with guys. Not anyone but Thomas. Even looking Tyler in the eye felt impossible.
And if Thomas really did like Tyler, I wasn’t gonna be the one standing in his way. Annoying as he was, he was still my best friend. If he had feelings for Tyler, I’d help him.
(Art Class)
After hiding out somewhere quiet to get my s**t together, I finally made it to my last class of the day—art. Thankfully, Thomas wasn’t in this one.
I was still pissed at him. Not because of the stunt he pulled, but because he’d kept this whole liking Tyler thing from me.
The assignment was simple: free drawing. We could sketch whatever we wanted. I sat there, pencil in hand, but my brain kept replaying this morning’s disaster.
“Hey, is it true about you and Thomas?”
Galaithier and Emma—my two best friends—sat beside me, both watching me like I was a goddamn soap opera.
“No.” My voice was flat.
“Come on! He literally wrote you a love poem in front of the whole class!”
“He was f*****g with me. You know what he’s like, Galaithier. And besides, Thomas is gay, isn’t he?”
Galaithier—suddenly looked like she wanted to disappear.
“Uh… yeah. Right. Just kidding.” She let out a fake-ass laugh and immediately changed the subject.
“Wow, Emma! That’s amazing!” she blurted, pointing at Emma’s sketch. It was almost finished—a field of sunflowers glowing under a dark sky.
“Sunflowers… at night?” Galaithier raised an eyebrow.
“Ever heard of imagination?” Emma shot back, focused on her work.
I sighed and glanced at my phone.
Thomas [49 messages]:
Vivian.
Vivian.
Vivian.
Are you ignoring me?
Vivian.
Vivian, answer me.
Vivian.
Jesus Christ.
I flipped my phone over. Today had been a lot. I needed a damn break.
I was all set to go home, flop onto my bed, and forget the world, but no—our hiking club just had to call for a meeting. Technically, it was a mandatory elective, meaning most of us didn’t even hike.
We just lounged around in the schoolyard, talking about camping, fishing, and survival skills that none of us had ever actually used. A real scam of a club.
The moment I stepped into the clubroom, I could feel it—everyone’s eyes were on me. The whole room buzzed with whispers, side glances, and suppressed giggles. Seriously? It hadn’t even been a day, and I was already school-wide gossip material.
Gala and Emma flanked me as we took our seats. I made sure to park myself between them, putting as much physical distance as possible between me and him.
“Move,” Thomas said flatly, staring down at Gala.
“No,” she shot back, nose high in the air.
“If you don’t, I might have to tell Mom about your little late-night adventure last week.”
Gala’s eye twitched. Teeth clenched. If there was one thing about Thomas, it was that he always had dirt on people. Huffing in defeat, she shot up from her seat and stomped away.
Panic spiked through me. No, no, no. No way. Sitting next to Thomas? The rumor mill was already working overtime, and this would just add fuel to the fire.
As soon as he dropped into the chair beside me, I tried to make a run for it—but his hand was faster. He grabbed my shoulder and shoved me back down.
“Sit.” His voice was low, eyes sharp, and for some reason, I actually listened. What the hell? I was the one who should be pissed here, not him. And why the hell was he sitting so close?!
The club meeting finally started, the president standing at the front.
“Alright, listen up. We’ve got a problem. Our club’s being evaluated, and—well, let’s just say we haven’t exactly hiked anything yet. So, next weekend, we’re splitting into groups of five for a three-day, two-night real camping trip.”
“Do we have to go?” Gala asked, frowning. She had only joined because the class was an easy grade booster, not because she actually cared.
“Yes, we have to go,” the president deadpanned. “The school isn’t happy we took funding for a hiking club that never hikes, so we need to prove we’re legit.”
People immediately started forming groups, picking their teammates. Our little gang—me, Thomas, Emma, and Gala—needed one more.
Then there was her.
Michelle. The school’s certified loner. She was tall, pale, skinny, and permanently hidden behind thick glasses. Most people ignored her because she never spoke, but I knew she was strong as hell.
One time, I saw her lift a box so heavy that I could barely drag it. She picked it up with one hand. Like it was nothing. I didn’t even get a chance to thank her.
And right now? She was standing there, alone, without a group.
“Michelle, join us,” I said, waving her over.
She blinked, clearly surprised, then gave a small nod.
“Cool, we’re a full group now,” Emma said. “So, who has camping gear?”
The club’s gear was nowhere near enough for the number of people going. And to make matters worse, it was old, worn-out, and practically falling apart.
“I do,” Michelle replied. “My family camps all the time. I have everything we need.”
The relief was instant. Thank God we didn’t have to waste money on expensive gear.
“Awesome. Saturday, we’ll swing by your place and grab everything,” Emma added.
With that settled, I grabbed my bag, ready to leave. But before I could take a single step—grab. Thomas’s hand latched onto my wrist, holding it tight.
“We need to talk,” he said.
I rolled my eyes, sighing dramatically. But I followed him anyway, letting him drag me behind the school to a secluded spot.
“Okay. Talk.”
Thomas turned to me, his face unreadable. Then, out of nowhere—
“I’m sorry.”
His voice softened, eyes turning all puppy-like. Ugh.
“Good. Because I have a question for you, too.” I crossed my arms. “You like Tyler, don’t you?”
His mouth dropped open.
“Excuse me?!”
“You always get weird when I talk to him. You glare, you interrupt, you get all huffy. What else am I supposed to think? That you’re jealous because you like me?”
Silence.
Thomas stared.
Then, slowly—
“What do you think?”
I scoffed. “Obviously, you like Tyler. You’re gay, Thomas. If you like him, just tell me! We’re friends!”
His jaw tightened.
“I don’t like Tyler,” he said, firm. “And this morning—I was just messing with you. Maybe I took it too far. I am sorry. So, are we good?”
I thought for a moment. Then sighed.
“Fine. But if you ever do that again, I will make you regret it.”
His lips twitched. “Oh yeah? How?”
“I’ll pinch you until you bruise,” I threatened.
Thomas snorted. “Pinch me? You can’t even touch me without freaking out.” He smirked, eyes glinting with amusement.
So I kicked his shin. Hard.
“Ow! You little—”
I laughed so loud. That’s right. Revenge was sweet.
- Writer
